


Wilting Flowers Bleed Red

by Ellisama



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst, Background Relationships, Character Development, Dimitri is dead but his spirit can be felt through the story, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Found Family, M/M, NaNoWriMo 2019, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellisama/pseuds/Ellisama
Summary: “There is a…complication, Your Majesty.”“Speak plainly, Hubert.”“See for yourself, my lady,” he said with a joyless smile, and quickly motioned one of his servants to approach them with - a child? Or the memory of a ghost, long-buried in both her mind as well as the earth? The little boy was gaunt and frightened, and the spitting image of Dimitri back when they were children, albeit many years younger than when they first met. “It appears the bloodline of Blaiddyd lives after all. This is most worrisome.”---After Edelgard set fire to the world to shape it anew, she expected a struggle against Those Who Slither In The Dark and the old establishment. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect Dimitri to haunt her in the form of his orphaned son, but she and her companions try to raise the boy anyway. Once the fires of war have been reduced to cinders, she can't help but wonder, was her dream worth all the sacrifices?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 151
Kudos: 362





	1. In Winter, Red Carnations Start to Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> “War does not determine who is right - only who is left.”
> 
> Beta'd by Ari and Abby. As always, I am forever in your debt.
> 
> Trigger Warning for the entire fic: this is not a happy feel good story. It deals with some heavy subjects, such as adopting the child of man you killed and the scala of reasons why that is fucked up, on top of everything that happened in Crimson Flower. Be warned that because of that, some questionable things happen, and obviously Edelgard's limited POV does not reflect my own opinion on these subjects.

* * *

Wyvern Moon, 1186

* * *

“What would you do if you could turn back time?” 

At the edge of dusk, the innocent question echoed through the otherwise silent study. Startled, Edelgard looked up to see her former-teacher-turned-dearest-advisor staring at the rain falling against the glass, an enigmatic expression on her face. 

Edelgard put down her pen. “That’s an odd question, my teacher. It isn’t like you to doubt your path.” 

Byleth shook her head, but didn’t answer for a long time. Her eyes were transfixed on the way the dying sunlight filtered through the stained glass, casting figures of saints and kings alike on the walls that had been the reigning Emperor’s personal study for a thousand years. If these walls could talk, what would they say? Perhaps they could tell her what her teacher was thinking, because despite all the years Edelgard had known her, and after everything they had been through, she still couldn’t read her completely. Especially during moments like these when her eyes turned to the horizon, wistfully. 

Her fingers itched to sketch her, to capture and analyze this moment in time, but she resisted the urge. Outside, the rain continued to pour mercilessly. They had won the war, celebrated their successes and buried the dead. Now all that remained was to reclaim the world and rebuild it into something better.

When Byleth spoke again, there was a sadness in her tone that didn’t match the fire of her gaze. “Would you do things differently?” 

Edelgard pondered upon the question for a second and then shook her head. “Perhaps a few things,” she said. “But no, I wouldn’t. Knowledge of the future wouldn’t change the reality we live in, nor the fact that my days are limited. I don’t have decades to change the world. In the end, this way was the fastest way, the one with the fewest casualties.” 

Byleth nodded noncommittally and said no more about it. Edelgard pushed the uncomfortable gnawing in her stomach out of her mind with practiced ease, and focused on the task at hand. The ink of the peace treaty was barely dry, and her former allies continued to conspire against her. Claude had vanished without a trace, and she knew better than to trust his word unconditionally. 

For better or for worse, they had achieved peace, and Edelgard had buried any regrets long ago along with the dead. They didn’t speak of it again.

Shortly after that conversation, Byleth left the capital to rebuild the Monastery and reform the Church into the faith of Sothis. Her letters were kind but scarce, and Edelgard couldn’t help but wonder if she had disappointed her former teacher with her answer.

* * *

Red Wolf Moon, 1186

* * *

A mere moon after the professor’s departure, her oldest companion returned to her from a trip through the former Kingdom territories with a rather grim look on his face, even by Hubert’s standards. “There is a… _complication_ , Your Majesty.” 

The Emperor of United Fodlan sighed deeply, sitting up straighter on her throne in the otherwise-deserted room, and urged him to come closer. “Speak plainly, Hubert.” 

“See for yourself, my lady,” he said with a joyless smile, and quickly motioned one of his servants to approach them with - a child? Or the memory of ghost, long-buried in both her mind as well as the earth? The little boy was gaunt and frightened, and the spitting image of Dimitri back when they were children, albeit many years younger than when they first met. “It appears the bloodline of Blaiddyd lives after all. This is most worrisome.” 

Even without the word Blaiddyd falling from Hubert’s tongue, Edelgard could have guessed his lineage. Without much grace, she slid from her chair and hurried towards the boy, who had firmly pressed his small body against Hubert’s leg, much to his dismay.

His blonde hair was dirty, more than a few drops of crusted blood dried on his dirty clothes. He looked scared, tired, and malnourished.

“Is he well?”

Hubert nodded. “Merely tired after a long journey. Ferdinand found him deep in former Kingdom territory, hidden away skillfully by a group of rebels who sought to raise him as a puppet for their foolish revolution.”

“And what of his mother? Dimitri was unmarried, as far as I knew.” Then again, she would admit that Dimitri’s personal affairs had meant little to her in the wake of her mission. 

“Little is known of her, but rest assured that my network is doing everything within their power to change that as we speak,” Hubert assured her. “Considering the delicacy of the subject, I thought it prudent that Her Majesty decided his fate.”

She knew he was going to say that, had known that the second she laid eyes on the small child. Edelgard closed her eyes and steeled herself for yet another sacrifice in the name of lasting peace.

What she did not brace herself for was the sudden, soft call ringing through her audience room. “... Mama?”

The small boy - no, Dimitri’s _son_ \- carefully let go of Hubert’s leg and wobbled forward. He was even smaller than she thought he was, probably barely two years of age, if not less. His big, green eyes were hopeful and trusting when he approached her with uneven steps, ready to launch himself into her arms.

She stopped him before he could reach her. “No! N-no I’m not your mother.”

The boy looked up at her, blinking owlishly, before continuing his journey towards her. As if struck by lightning, Edelgard could do nothing but hold her breath with equally wide eyes as the child nearly propelled herself into her, looking up at her …. _expectantly_? Expecting her to do what exactly?

“Your Majesty? It would be wise to act fast, before -” Edelgard held up her hand, and Hubert fell silent immediately. She knew what he was going to say anyway.

She took a deep breath. “I….” 

The child blinked. The words didn’t come, lost somewhere in small, demanding hands reaching for her own. Edelgard felt a chill creep up her spine, and swallowed what she was going to say, what she was _supposed_ to say. 

Instead, she knelt and allowed the child to press himself close to her. It felt strange; nobody had touched her so familiarly since her siblings had died a gruesome death. Their death cries echoing through her mind was what sealed the deal. “No. I know what you’re thinking, Hubert. But wartime is over, and I won’t murder a child for the sole sin of who his father was.” 

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, this child may be small and docile yet, but if allowed to live will grow up to be a constant dagger pressed between your shoulder blades. Keeping it around would be… most unwise.” She didn’t need to look at Hubert to know the disapproving yet polite frown that ghosted over his face.

The child yawned, and it occurred to her that she couldn't keep calling him that in her mind, if he were to stay alive. “What’s your name?” The boy looked at her as if she spoke in Almyran, silent. Her patience quickly ran thin, and more out of habit than intent she gritted out a stern: “Speak.”

The boy flinched like many of her subjects had done before him. “Al- Alex,” he stuttered, hidden tears evident in his voice. 

“My sources confirm it to be Alexandre Glenn Blaiddyd,” Hubert supplied without prompting, as expected. “Whomever the unfortunate prince may have lain with, he at least acknowledged the product, or so some hidden documents we found along the child suggest. I suppose I don’t have to explain exactly how dangerous that is for your young reign?” 

“No, you do not.” Edelgard stood up, and Alexandre, close to tears from either sleep, fear or a combination of both, clamped on to her dress as if it were his lifeline. “Thank you, Hubert, you are dismissed.”

“Your Majesty-” Hubert sputtered with roughly the same indignancy as when she last interrupted his lunch with Ferdinand. 

“Was I not clear?”

“I… of course, Lady Edelgard. My apologies,” Hubert said with a bow, taking his leave with dignity. She would be a fool if she truly believed that this would be the last she would hear from him about this. 

When she was once again alone in her lavishly decorated room, she picked offered her hand to the child, urging him to follow her.

He took it resolutely, though his voice was not. “Mama?” 

Edelgard flinched at the sudden, unexpected pang of hurt the single word inflicted upon her. “I’m not your mother, dear,” she tried to say with all the kindness she could remember from a nanny long forgotten. “I’m your…. aunt. You may call me Edelgard, if you will.” It came out awkward at best. 

“Where is Mama?” 

“I don’t know, Alexandre,” she replied truthfully. “You have nothing to worry about. I will take care of you from now on, and you will want for nothing.” 

The promise echoed hollowly in the room that had once been her father’s. 

Alexandre let go of her hand, and planted his feet firmly on the ground. “I want my mama,” he demanded angrily. Or was it tiredly? Edelgard readily admitted she knew little to nothing about children. 

“So do I,” she agreed, and when the little boy didn’t take her hand again, she plucked him off his feet and carried him herself. “But we can’t always have what we want. Sometimes, we have to make do with what we’re given.” 

The boy wailed dramatically when she carried him through the ancient halls of Enbarr castle, but Edelgard had lived on and off the battlefield for years. Containing a small child and ignoring the tantrum he was pulling was nothing compared to trying to fall asleep some nights. If anything, it drew servants towards her, saving her the trouble of having to call for them.

Edelgard considered it a testament to her rule that none of them questioned her when she issued the order to prepare the rooms adjacent to her own for Alexandre.

The royal nursery of the imperial castle had long been empty, but the interior was nothing but the finest quality. Maids made quick work under her watchful eye of cleaning the furniture Edelgard barely remembered from her own years spent in this room. Once Alexandre’s tears ran out, he nestled himself comfortably in her arms and touched her face with tiny, curious fingers. She rocked him awkwardly, trying to find a correct way to hold him without hurting him.

Once the room was ready, she lowered him into the bed without much ceremony and assigned a guard to his door. 

“Make sure he wants for nothing, nor anyone harms him.” The threat in her voice was barely hidden, and the soldier nodded eagerly.

Convinced she had done the right thing, Edelgard returned to her study and continued her work until her head hurt, and her eyes were bloodshot. Now that the festivities were over, it turned out that recreating a new empire took far more paperwork than she had ever envisioned. 

That night, she could hear the boy cry for his mother through the stone wall that separated the master bedroom from his. He was a fine company for the ghosts that haunted her own nightmares.

-

Dawn filtered in through the blinds without remorse, but the warm rays of sunlight weren’t what woke her. The sound of prattling feet, coming ever closer, immediately roused Edelgard. She carefully reached for the dagger hidden underneath her pillow, feigning sleep. Where were the guards? Where were her friends? Who was coming for her today?

Then, seconds before she lashed out, a small hand touched her face, and with sudden clarity, Edelgard remembered the day before and the child to who those hands belonged. 

For a moment she was fifteen years younger, and she had more siblings than she could count. Her youngest brother’s long blonde hair was messy and full of tangles, always getting in her face when they played together. His eyes were as violet as her own, playful and alive. Then the scene twisted to the last time she had seen him smile, this time it was the laughter of a madman, right before he clawed out his own eyes. 

Edelgard blinked and the memory was gone, leaving Dimitri’s son in his wake, eyeing her curiously while playing with a strand of her hair.

“What are you doing here, Alexandre?” she asked him while getting out of bed. 

His chest hitched, and he turned his eyes away from her as if he was ashamed of being caught. “I’m hungry,” he admitted after some more prodding. 

Edelgard tried to recall if they had fed the child yesterday, and drew a blank. “Ah yes. I suppose you would be,” she said calmly, internally slapping herself for her carelessness. “Come, let us get you some food.” 

She rose to her feet, her long unbound hair falling down her back. Alexandre quickly scrambled to his feet, and tried to grab it again.

“Do you like my hair?” 

“It’s snow!” Alexandre immediately replied. “Pretty!” 

Edelgard frowned. Pretty? She looked in the mirror. Her hair was well maintained, as befitted an emperor. Yet, to her, it was but a symbol of her fate, and that of her stolen siblings. Never ‘pretty’. A hollow feeling settled in her stomach, and she averted her eyes from the mirror, taking Alexandre to her private sitting room.

“How did you get here?” she wondered out loud.

“I walked!” Alexandre answered proudly, and that explained absolutely nothing.

“What about the guards?”

Alexandre looked at her strangely, and stated simply: “I asked.” 

Edelgard mentally made a note to have a conversation with her guards too, if they simply let anyone who asked nicely into her private quarters while she was asleep. She shook her head, putting the matter at rest. 

“Well… I suppose that is alright then. For now.” 

She summoned a surprised maid to her rooms, ordering breakfast for two. When the food arrived no more than ten minutes later, it rivaled the luxuries she had known at Garreg Mach. She savored a sip of tea, a fine Hresvelg Blend, while her young tablemate played with his food instead of eating it.

“Is it not to your liking?” she asked sternly after a while, trying not to sound impatient.

Alexandre averted his eyes, and muttered: “I want cheese.” 

A memory of a boyish grin came to mind, with a similar request. Then, a meal shared after the mock Battle of the Eagle and the Lion, many years later. She bit her own cheek hard and focused on the pain. That, at least, was a familiar sensation.

“Then cheese you shall get,” she declared with a sweet smile and watched Alexandre perk up. Although she had no particular preference for it, the maids always served some cheese with her breakfast, which she promptly handed to Alexandre. “There you go.” 

He looked at her with big eyes, and for a second Edelgard wondered if she had made yet another wrong move, and he would cry again. Then he started giggling uncontrollably. “It’s too big, silly!” he exclaimed with more exuberance than she had witnessed from him before.

His laughter echoed through the tall room, reminding her of mornings long gone. She took a sip of her tea to hide her own smile, finding it tasting especially sweet today. 

“Ah, of course.” She gently cut the cheese into small blocks. “Is this better?” 

Alexandre looked at it for a second, seeming to contemplate her handiwork. “No.” 

Edelgard sighed deeply, unable to refrain herself from raising her voice. “But you just said you wanted cheese.”

“Cheese!” He exclaimed happily, a sparkle in his eyes.

She put the cheese on a piece of bread. “This is _cheese_ , Alexandre,” she intoned harsher than she wanted, but it worked. 

The boy took the piece of bread, and very shyly took a single bite. As soon as he closed his mouth, his eyes lit up and he hurried to stuff the entire thing into his mouth, nearly choking in the process. “Twank wyou!” 

A knot settled in her belly, and Edelgard nodded wordlessly in response. She put down her own breakfast, and instead listened to Alexandre’s happy, incoherent prattling. It turned out she wasn’t hungry after all.

-

After breakfast, she summoned a servant and ushered both of them out of her chambers, lamenting the time she had already lost. Her days as leader of the Black Eagle Strike Force had been long, but her hours as emperor were positively grueling. 

Twenty minutes later she strode into the cabinet meeting room with as much poise as she could muster. 

On Wednesdays, her early cabinet meeting included only Hubert, the Minister of the Imperial Household and Spymaster, as well as Ferdinand, the Prime Minister. The two of them were bent over a cup of tea, quietly holding a pleasant conversation, if the uncharacteristically gentle smile on Hubert’s face was anything to go by. It was only by the grace of knowing both of them for many years that she could spot the startle upon her entrance. 

Edelgard dismissed the urge to wonder what they had been talking about what drew them into a world of their own so much that they hadn’t noticed she was late. “My apologies for my tardiness, I was held up,” she said briskly while she took her seat at the head of the table. “Let us begin with our weekly cabinet meeting. Hubert, please start.” 

“First and foremost, I think perhaps we should consider the recent addition to the household. As Minister of the Imperial Household, I am _most_ concerned.” 

“And I have heard your concerns, Hubert,” Edelgard assured her oldest companion with a decisive tone. “Yet I stand by my words, I will not murder him on the grounds of who his father is.” 

Hubert’s small smile faltered instantly, but Ferdinand's only grew. “Didn’t I tell you she would say that, Hubert!” he exclaimed loudly.

Hubert rolled his eyes. “Very well, then. I suppose it is true what they say: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” The venom in his voice was palpable but completely ineffective on those who had weathered far worse from him. 

“That’s quite enough, Hubert,” Edelgard warned him with a quiet voice. 

“He’s just aggravated because I am right,” Ferdinand positively gloated, and suddenly Edelgard was seventeen again and nothing had changed at all. Then his playful expression morphed into a serious one, and the illusion was gone. “However, although I agree that it is the right thing to do, I didn’t have the child brought here to be raised by you specifically.” 

“Surely a more suitable nursemaid can be found,” Hubert added with a smirk that told her that he knew exactly why she was late for this particular meeting. 

Frankly, they made a valid point. “Yes.. you are probably right,” she agreed readily. “Please arrange for a proper nanny. One that will take _good_ care of him,” Edelgard stressed while holding Hubert’s gaze.

“Please enlighten me of Your Majesty’s definition of proper, as it seems we are in fundamental disagreement on the matter.” 

Ferdinand elbowed him discreetly, and Edelgard pretended not to see it. “One that can protect him, and teach him well. Perhaps my own old nanny is still alive.” 

“I can assure you she is not,” Hubert said with more amusement than his words warranted, and Edelgard spotted the hint of a smug smile.

“Ah. A pity,” she said, trying to remember the woman who had raised her. She had never seen her again after she had become emperor, but she had been kind, sometimes. 

“Quite the contrary, I would say. She was appointed on your uncle’s recommendation after all, and played a vital part in your abduction,” Hubert said with the same tone of voice he would use announcing the weather forecast, but the vindictive glint in his eyes told stories of their own. 

There was a story here, but it wasn’t one for today, so Edelgard merely nodded at him buried the cold feeling that swirled in her stomach.

“If I may, Your Majesty. My own old nanny is still alive, and although advanced in age, still quite capable of raising a noble such as myself,” Ferdinand said with some of his old flares in a rather obvious gambit to lighten the mood. “I can take the young prince into my former territory, and ensure he lives a good, quiet life.”

Hubert nodded along with him, and Edelgard could see the political advantage of Alexandre’s silence. 

Then she remembered small hands, a curious spark and eyes so blue she almost felt homesick for a childhood she never had. Truly, it was no choice at all. 

“No.” Edelgard shook her head resolutely. “No, he will be raised here, in the palace, where he belongs.” 

“With all due respect -” Hubert started, but a swift hand and a lifetime of loyalty stopped him before he could continue any further.

“Had things been different, he would have been a king.”

Hubert snorted. “Unless you wish to hand him your crown, he should hope to never foster such ambitions.” 

“He is my nephew,” Edelgard offered, trying to explain something she didn’t understand with words she didn’t have. The look Hubert gave her was questionable at best, and Ferdinand wasn’t far behind him. “I… it’s not common knowledge, I suppose, and I would prefer it to keep it that way. But after my mother fled the Empire, she married Dimitri’s father. My mother considered Dimitri her son. I… couldn’t save her, nor my father or siblings. But I can ensure Alexandre grows up well, here, in Enbarr.” 

Ferdinand and Hubert shared a loaded glance, before the former turned to her with a kind smile and gentle words. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, you have far more important duties than raising a child. The task at hand is monumental, to say the very least.” 

“As astounding as it sounds, I must agree with the Prime Minister on that.”

“He will have a nanny, and I shall call for the professor to oversee his training. He will stay here, and that is my final verdict.” She met both their eyes unwaveringly, daring them to disagree once more with her. “Alexandre stays.” 

Hubert sighed, and Ferdinand laughed uneasily. “Very well then, I shall defer to your judgment. Let us move on to the recent uprising in the Sreng area. Reports from house Gautier indicate-” 

They spoke no more of the issue after that.

* * *

Ethereal Moon, 1186 

* * *

Hubert’s spy network was as impeccable as always. Within weeks they reported an alleged place and date of birth for the young Alexandre, who turned out to be little more than two years old. The name of his mother remained a mystery, but Edelgard doubted the woman was alive. If she was, she was certain she would know of his whereabouts soon enough, since rumors of a young blonde, green-eyed child ran rampant through the streets of Enbarr, and probably soon the entirety of Fodlan. 

Some of them spoke of a shameful affair while others praised their emperor for taking pity upon a promising orphan. At the behest of her closest advisors, Edelgard stalwartly refused to give a definitive answer to anyone who dared to ask of Alexandre’s heritage. Her silence only made the rumors grow even more fairytale-like, but as long as none of them came close to the truth, Edelgard was content to let the people speculate. 

While she weathered the storm, Alexandre remained blissfully unaware of the attention he was attracting. He spent most of his days learning and playing, filling her private quarters with joyful laughter it hadn’t heard in years. Hidden behind closed doors, the young boy flourished. His vocabulary was limited, but not unusual for his age, and with every passing day, he spoke more to her.

He could name many different breeds of horses, yet barely knew the difference between a cat and a dog until Edelgard ordered one of each to be brought in for him. She had never been particularly fond of animals, nor them of her, but Alexandre seemed to delight in their presence.

The puppy happily fetched every toy Alexandre threw away, much to his giggling delight. The ancient embroidered cushions were ripped to shreds, but Edelgard did not dread their demise. The draughty halls of the palace may be opulent but felt empty compared to the warmth she had known in Garreg Mach. If a few broken vases and ripped curtains could return life to this catacomb, then that was a sacrifice she was more than happy to make.

But the animals could only keep Alexandre busy for so long, and whenever he felt hungry, tired or just bored, he would pull her dress until she surrendered and diverted her attention to him.

It had been endearing at first, but had quickly become irritating as the constant interruptions made her fall behind on her work. The reconstruction of Fodlan, the elimination of the crest and nobility system, plotting the downfall of Those Who Slither In The Dark, on top of all the daily issues one faced while running a continent-wide empire; on a good day, she hardly slept more than six hours in an attempt to stay on top of it all. 

With the constant interruptions, the insistent crying at night and decreased focus that came with the lack of sleep, she was counting down the days until Ferdinand’s old nanny made it through Hubert’s excessive screening process and arrived in Enbarr. 

“E- Ewe- Ewelgward?” the boy struggled once again to pronounce her name.

Edelgard grit her teeth, and counted to ten to resist lashing out at the child. “Yes, Alexandre?” she asked impatiently, putting down her pen for the fourth time in as many minutes.

Alexandre climbed on top of her lap. The sudden contact made her freeze every time without fail ever since he had warmed up enough to her. 

He gazed at her with a sudden focus, his head tilted to the side. “Did you know my papa?” 

Edelgard’s smile fell instantly. “Why the question, little one?” 

“Did you know him?” Alexandre insisted, his tiny fists curling into the fabric of her dress. 

She closed her eyes for a second. A flash of blonde hair, clumsy feet but a gentle smile. Sadness, and then rage. Then, death. When she opened her eyes, Dimitri’s son stared at her with an expression that haunted her dreams.

“I did,” she admitted after a moment of thought, trying and failing to find the right words. “He was my brother, of sorts.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words that she realized the truth in them. Even though it had meant more to him than to her, and despite how he had gone out, Dimitri and her mother’s ghosts deserved at least that much.

The realization made her feel older than her years, only amplified by the youth in front of her. Carefully, she reached out to him and stroked his hair. Alexandre perked up, leaning into the touch like a starved boy. He didn’t ask any more questions after that, nor did she offer more information. For once, the silence was a friend rather than a foe, and Edelgard released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

When Alexandre fell asleep in her lap, she carried him to his room across her own and instructed the guards that if he desired to join her, they were to escort him the entire way. 

It wasn’t until the nanny arrived, an ancient yet stern woman, that Edelgard realized how much she loathed the silence she once had craved.

* * *

Guardian Moon, 1186

* * *

The sun was especially bright outside on the day before Dorothea’s departure from Enbarr. The world was rebuilding, and what better way to spread the word than with the voice of an angel, one that had fought on the side of the emperor herself? Hubert had been adamant about sending the Mittelfrank Opera Company all over the continent and beyond, and as in many things, he eventually got his way. 

With Casper and Linhardt in the north and the professor at Garreg Mach, Enbarr was becoming quieter every day.

There was a certain reluctance in Dorothea’s step that Edelgard had seen grow during the war. She had hoped that peace would erase the moments that Dorothea’s hand would suddenly tremble, but it hadn’t happened yet. Regardless, of the way her teacup shook, her friend did not leave on her tour without a personal visit.

(Not that people were in a habit of declining the emperor’s personal requests, but Edelgard choose to ignore that. Dorothea had always been different.)

It was almost like old times before the war, before the crown. They shared a cup of sweet tea and some old memories together, artfully avoiding politics or all the places the Mittelfrank Opera Company wouldn’t visit because the people still rebelled too much for the region to be safe. When they sat together, legs gently pressed together and with laughter ringing through the air, Edelgard felt her age for once instead of the woman the world demanded her to be. 

Edelgard clung to every second spent together, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to have moments like these for months, if not years. She engraved Dorothea’s radiant smile in her mind, coupled with the careful power that was hidden beneath her eyes. She would be fine. They both would be. Eventually, the sun hung low in the sky, and the red light filtering through the glass indicated that it was time to leave.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door! Really, Edie! I’ll be just fine,” Dorothea protested, but Edelgard was persistent and escorted her personally out of her private quarters, savoring every last second together. 

“It is no trouble at all,” Edelgard insisted, leaving the true reason in between them. Many times she had considered confiding in Dorothea about the price of her power. There was no time for that now anymore, and probably never would be, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Dorothea would have stayed if she had known that she was running on borrowed time, not to mention Those Who Slither In the Dark. 

Instead of protesting, Dorothea suddenly halted, and Edelgard bumped into her. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even realize she was clutching Dorothea’s hand, nor that they had stopped walking.

“So the rumors are true,” Dorothea murmured to herself, looking out of the window into the private gardens of Enbarr Palace. There was a disappointment in her voice that Edelgard could not place.

Outside, Alexandre played with his dog, running and tumbling in the wet grass. He was getting taller every day, and stronger, too. A good diet and exercise regime ensured that one day he would tower over her, just like his father had. 

_If_ she lived long enough to see that day, Edelgard reminded herself bitterly. She willed a careful smile on her face and watched the boy run wild, joy evident in his every feature. 

”Some of them,” she answered Dorothea, when she felt her eyes bore into her, quelling the feeling of longing that grew inside of her. “He isn’t mine, if you were wondering.” 

The laugh Dorothea barked out was not very kind, unlike the way her thumb traced circles on the back of Edelgard’s hand. “ _Please_ , Edie. I know you better than that. You couldn’t have hidden a pregnancy from me,” she said with a scandalous wink that got the desired reaction out of Edelgard: a horrified blush. Undeterred, she wondered out loud, “That leaves the question of whose child he is, and why you’re keeping him here.” 

As always with Dorothea, Edelgard considered spilling all of her secrets for a second. It was something about the way Dorothea would look her in the eye, that she feel like the world narrowed down to only the two of them, and nothing else mattered. Sadly, Edelgard knew better. All roses have thorns after all. With practiced ease, she buried the desire deep down, and answered curtly, “That’s a story you would be better off not knowing. The fewer people know the truth, the better.” 

Dorothea’s wounded gasp sounded theatrically fake, but her eyes betrayed that there was a layer of truth to it. “Edie! You wound me! After all, we’ve been through together!” 

“My apologies, Dorothea. It isn’t personal.” 

“Come _onnnn,_ Edie. You know I can keep a secret. Even Hubie trusts me,” Dorothea pleaded dramatically, her hands resting on her hips. That recent development was exactly why she bit the inside of her cheek and refrained from dropping Dimitri’s name. Hubert and Dorothea, for all of their apparent differences, were equals when it came to scheming. Although Dorothea’s methods were kinder than Hubert’s, Edelgard hardly needed to give him another ally just in case he changed his mind about keeping Alexandre alive.

“We don’t know who his mother is, I can tell you that much,” Edelgard admitted under the intensity of Dorothea’s searching gaze. She turned her head away from it to the sight that had sparked the conversation. Outside, Alexandre’s blond hair danced in the wind, the knees of his tunic grass-stained. Every time he stumbled in his enthusiasm, he got right back up with a smile. She could see his nanny berate him, but couldn’t hear her words or smell the flowers he brought to her as an apology. They were red, as were his cheeks, and with all of her being she wished she could be there too, carelessly in the grass, without the weight of an unstable young empire on her shoulders.

“But his father?”

Edelgard carefully chose her words. “Someone who was close to my family, once upon a time. Considering that I am not only the head of the Hresvelg family but also the Empire, the responsibility of raising him falls to me.” 

“I will have to take your word for it then,” Dorothea said when it became clear that was all that Edelgard would give her. “He is to be your successor, then?” 

Edelgard’s eyes went wide. “No!” The word flew from her lips before she could think of it. She quickly steeled her mind. “No, once he grows up, he will be able to choose his own fate. That, and a safe childhood away from political strife, are the greatest gifts I can give him. If the children can’t reap the fruits of our sacrifices, then what was the purpose of it all?” 

Dorothea let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t forget love. There is nothing more important when it comes to raising a child,” she added softly.

Edelgard felt even more inadequate than before for not considering that. “I’m certain he will have plenty of that,” she said briskly and then hesitated before continuing: “I… wonder if I’m doing the right thing.” She shook her head then, trying to find the right words. “No. I _know_ I’m doing the right thing, keeping him here. But I am at a loss for what I should do with a young child. I was raised to be an emperor, a warrior, and a politician. Never a mother. Some days I barely remember my own.” 

The look of pity that twisted Dorothea’s features was too bare to look at. “What does your heart say?” 

“I’m not… _adept_ at listening to my heart.” And wasn’t that the uncomfortable truth that stretched between them. “I’d much rather hear what you have to say,” she finished weakly.

There was a lot more to that statement than either of them had the luxury of exploring, but for a quiet moment, Dorothea’s eyes turned soft and she enveloped Edelgard into her arms. She startled, unaccustomed to the contact. Had it been truly so long since she had been hugged, that it was enough to make her battle-hardened heart beat that much faster? 

The embrace lasted less than a few seconds, and once they parted, the distance between them seemed larger than ever. _Sacrifices_ , echoed through her mind. What was one more, for the future of Fodlan? This was nothing compared in the face of all that came before.

Her eyes strayed again to sun-kissed blonde hair, but only for a moment.

“I won’t make any claims to knowing your heart,” Dorothea spoke after a long silence, her words clear as day and cutting deeper than the soft intonation belied. “But for what it’s worth, I think the kid could do worse with you as a mother.” 

“I’m _not_ his mother,” Edelgard bit out, almost on reflex, but at the same time, the memory of Alexandre’s hungry gaze during the first days of his stay with them surfaced, and of how he had addressed her in the wake of his nightmares. He still did, sometimes, but Dorothea didn’t have to know that. 

“I have no desire to be,” she added when Dorothea looked at her strangely. 

“Ah,” her former classmate sighed, and not for the first time, Edelgard wondered if it would have been better to lie. “Then I hope for him he will find a Manuela of his own.” 

“I will… keep it in mind.” 

“Good.” And with those words, Dorothea let go of her hand resolutely, taking all of her warmth with her. “Now I must depart. Tonight is the final show in Enbarr, and I can’t exactly be late to my own farewell performance. Are you sure you’re not coming?”

Edelgard shook her head. “My apologies, Dorothea. I have a meeting with Caspar’s father about the current situation in the former Kingdom territories that I can’t cancel.” 

“Ah, well duty over pleasure, such is the way of a queen. Oops, Emperor, I mean.” Then, she curtsied deeply and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Farewell, Edie. I hope you’ll think of me, sometimes.” 

_Every time when I need to be reminded that there is beauty and goodness in the world_ , she thought to herself, but the words never made it past her lips. “O-of course. I… will write to you,” Edelgard stuttered instead, drawing a knowing laugh from Dorothea. 

“I’ll look forward to it.” 

And just like that, Dorothea walked out of the room and out of her life. The palace walls had never felt so suffocating before.

* * *

Pegasus Moon, 1186

* * *

Some mornings, Edelgard woke up drenched in sweat, the scars on her back aching as if they were inflicted mere moments ago instead of a decade. Instead of going back to sleep she would drag herself out of bed and stand before the colored glass until the light passed through it, signaling another dawn. In the light open space of the emperor’s suite, the horrors she had endured seemed further away with each dawn.

Sometimes sat behind her desk, and drew shapes and figures until they became a testament of distant pastures and better times. 

Sometimes, she wandered to Alexandre’s door and dared to peek inside. He was a fitful sleeper, and more often than not, his dreams seemed to plague him rather than soothe him. She wondered what he could have seen, which caused him to dream in such a way. Or perhaps, more cruelly, the torment was inherited from father to son. The professor had spoken once of Dimitri’s wandering presence past curfew during their peaceful days at the academy. 

Regardless, Edelgard smoothed the tears from his eyes on those nights and held vigil beside him while he called out names she did not know. It was the only thing she could do. She always left before he could wake up, without fail.

* * *

Lone Moon, 1186

* * *

It was a rainy Tuesday mere days before the end of the year when Felix showed up in Enbarr Castle, thunderclouds heralding his arrival. She had not summoned him, and it had been many months since she’d seen him, not since he refused to both his title and a position at her court to become a mercenary. She hadn’t kept track of him, but the tales of the bloody path he cut through the chaos of Fodlan spoke for itself. 

He refused to surrender his swords to the guards and marched straight into her audience chamber with little care for propriety. If not for the Byleth’s Sword of the Creator, Felix was unmatched in his sword prowess. They had never been friends, and she made no mistake imagining his loyalty lay with her instead of the professor. It mattered little; Felix made a far preferable ally than many of her others, even if some of them were of her own blood. And yet, she knew better than to let the fact that they shared a classroom once lull her into letting her guard down around him. 

There was a storm brewing on his face, and for a second she wondered if he had come to kill her. Despite the fact that her last battle was over a half a year ago, it would not be an easy task, not even for him. Her eyes darted towards the door that lead to her private study, from which the distant prattling of a playing toddler could be heard. 

Without thinking, she placed herself between Felix and the door, waving the guard away. If he was here to kill her, the young man didn’t stand a chance anyway. When Felix didn’t make a move to strike her, she beckoned him to take a seat, which he didn’t take. 

“I didn’t expect you back here so soon,” she said in lieu of a welcome. Honesty was always the best policy with the prickly swordsman.

Felix scowled. A fresh scar ran over the bridge of his nose that wasn’t there before, wrinkling painfully. “Is it true?” he demanded, skipping the pleasantries altogether. Even now, he didn’t meet her eyes.

Ah. So he came for that. She wondered if he had spies of his own in her court, or if one of her former classmates had informed him of Alexandre’s arrival. 

Edelgard loosened the grip on the dagger hidden underneath the folds of her court dress and didn’t pretend she didn’t know what he meant. “I was as surprised as you are. But yes, it is true.”

“What did you do to him?” Felix accused her brutally, but Edelgard doesn’t allow the insult to sting.

Instead, she raised herself to her full height and knocked on the door she had been guarding. “Perhaps it is better if I show you. Alexandre! Come here please!” 

It didn’t take long at all before his faithful nanny ushered the growing toddler into her audience room. 

“What’s wrong?” Alexandre asked sweetly, twisting his fists into her dress immediately and putting a thumb in his mouth. His eyes stayed on Felix, whose usual grace was all but lost when he stumbled backward a few steps. His face turned ashen as if he laid eyes upon a ghost instead of a young child.

Edelgard pretended she didn’t see his shock, and turned back to Alexandre, curling a protective hand in his hair. “Nothing. Just someone who would like to meet you.” 

“Oh. Hi!” he said shyly, a light blush dusting his cheeks, still not letting go of her dress. His shyness would have been adorable, if not for the long bloody history that stretched between him and the man in front of him. 

There were a thousand things Felix could have said, but for once, he didn’t have a snide remark ready. Instead, the soft, “Hello,” he uttered accompanied by a small wave sounded all the more forlorn. He surprised her further by sinking down to the boy’s level, muttering a few things under his breath and his hands clenching and unclenching.

For a moment, she waited for him to reach out to the boy like he so desperately wanted. When it became clear he wouldn’t, she turned to her charge and said: “That’s all for now. Run along, Alexandre.”

“Bye mister,” he said politely, smiling up at her after he bowed as he had been taught. She nodded her approval at him, earning a positively radiant grin in return. His nanny curtsied appropriately, and ushered him away from the Emperor and the last Fraldarius heir. 

Felix’s gaze burned holes in the door after he left. “He looks just like him,” he muttered like a man possessed. “I knew him my whole life. The boar - Dimitri, that is… Just like him, like he used to be before Duscur, before...” 

“He bears the Crest of Blaiddyd, too.” 

That snapped his attention back from his reverie and back to her. “How long do you think you can hide the truth of what you’ve done from him?” he sneered at her, drawing himself back to his full height. 

It wasn’t like that question hadn’t plagued her for many sleepless nights lately. “When he’s older, he will have the right to know. Until then, everyone is ordered to silence, and that includes you, Felix,” she ordered. When he didn’t nod, she averted her eyes and added: “He’ll understand, in time.” 

“And you’ll lie to him until then, won’t you?” Edelgard didn’t answer, unsure of her answer herself. “Pathetic.” 

Edelgard raised a single eyebrow. “Your hands are as bloody as mine, Felix,” she reminded him, and watched him sneer in response. “No need to pretend to have the moral high ground. I will do what is necessary, as I have always done.” 

For a moment, his hand ghosted over the hilt of his sword. Then it dropped, and instead he turned around to storm out of the room. “Well, I’ve done my _duty_.” He stressed the word as if it was a curse. “Don’t call for me again.” 

Edelgard allowed him his retreat with dignity, not reminding him that he had come of his own volition. Some people needed to lie to themselves in order to make it through the day. It wasn’t until she saw his retreating figure leave through the windows of her study that she felt an inexplicable fear leave her body.

-

That night, a soft knock on the door that connected her own room to the nursery woke her from her fitful slumber.

“Yes?” As promised, the guards allowed the young boy entrance, and he tiptoed into the dark of her room. She could barely make out the tear tracks staining his cheeks in the warm glow of the candle she always kept lit in her room, even at night. “What’s the matter? Did you have a nightmare?”

Alexandre hesitated but nodded. She sighed and patted the space next to her on the bed. Without hesitation, he climbed in and dove under the blankets, his warm body curling up against her. “Who was that man today?” he asked once he was settled. “He looked mean.” 

There was more than one answer to that question, and Edelgard did not want to waste all the goodwill that remained between her and Felix by answering. “He tries to be, but he’s really not,” she assured him instead. “He was once a…. friend of your father,” she added after a moment, unsure of what else to say. 

Felix had turned traitor against his king, and yet the way he had said his name belied that it had not killed all the history between the two of them, or he would not have come all the way here.

“Oh,” said Alexandre, and then turned his big questioning eyes back to her. “Where is Papa?”

Edelgard closed her eyes and searched for kind words. “He’s… gone.”

“When will he be back?”

“He... won’t,” Edelgard said finally.

Alexandre looked at her strangely, his question deceptively innocent. “Why?”

 _Because he’s dead._ Edelgard didn’t say. _Because vengeance and war were more important than raising a child._

Alexandre opened his mouth to ask more questions when she didn’t answer him, but she was as little prepared to answer them that night, as she had been this afternoon. “He entrusted me to you, and that’s why I will be taking very good care of you.” The lie slipped past her lips before she could decide upon it.

Some people needed a white lie to get them through the day. Apparently, Edelgard was one of these people too. 

If the uneasy feeling that roared to life in her chest showed on her face, it flew by Alexandre, who seemed to accept her answer. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked instead, snuggling closer against her. “It’s dark and cold.” 

Edelgard swallowed deeply. “I dislike the dark too, that’s why I always keep a candle lit while I sleep,” she said, gesturing at the elegant red candelabra on her bedside drawer. “I will call your nanny and ask her to do the same in your room from now on. Come, let’s get you back to bed. You have nothing to fear.” 

“No!” exclaimed Alexandre strongly, as apparently wasn’t unusual for a child of his age, or so his nanny had assured her. “I want to stay with you, Aunty El!” 

The word cut through her unlike any blade could have, and she almost choked on her own tongue when she spoke. “Where… Where did you hear that name?” she said with a crackling voice, folding her arm against her stomach.

“I made it up! Edel-Gward is too long,” Alexandre proclaimed proudly. Edelgard felt dizzy. “Is… is that alright? I didn’t mean to make you sad..”

A hint of tears welled up in his eyes, snapping her back into reality and away from memories of many siblings long dead. 

“No…” She forcibly relaxed her stiffened muscles one by one. It became easier to force her frown into a smile every day at the boy’s request. If only it were so easy to pick up all the broken pieces of the empire, glue them back together and cover them with paint like the past thousand years were just childhood stories meant to scare children into obedience. 

“No, it’s alright. Just… just when it’s the two of us, you may call me that,” she repeated with a carefully calm voice, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her chest, constricting her breath. “Tonight, you can stay. But tomorrow you have to sleep in your own room, okay?”

The smile she received was blinding. “Thank you!”

Edelgard squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath while the boy claimed his share of the blankets without restraint, and knew that tonight would not be the last night, no matter how adamant her statements.

The lie had not been a grave one, and yet she felt its presence as if it were a physical object in the room, suffocating her. 

While Alexandre slept an uncharacteristically peaceful sleep, Edelgard didn’t catch a single moment of rest, tormented by the knowledge that perhaps Dorothea had been right all along.

_What in the goddess’s name am I going to do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not the fic I had planned to write for nano, as a matter of fact, this is a discord conversation about future kids that I made tragic. It was supposed to be a 5k one shot, but then people started showing up from my own CF playthrough and the kid started to live in my mind and here we are, 40k later of Edelgard stumbling through raising Dimitri's child in a world she set fire in order to shape anew. The central question is: In the end, was it worth it? The answer depends on who you ask, and when. One of the things I love about Three Houses is that there is not one route that is the happy ending, but rather each character has a route in which they end up well or less well. That is the case here as well.
> 
> Romantic relationships will not be the focus of this fic, but I tagged them because Edelgard is very, very gay for Dorothea and it's impossible to miss, especially later on when it becomes important to the plot. Perhaps it's self-indulgent, but I love these pairings and when I wrote these characters, the love for each other just filtered in. There is a lot of pining, and I could write a whole tale of the shit Hubert and Ferdinand get up to while Edelgard is adulting. There is a lot of symbolism in this fic, and a lot of characters I recruited show up too, although the ones tagged play a central role. If you want to know more, leave a comment! Otherwise, this end note is going to eclipse the arguably already too many words I wrote for this fic.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this labor of love, and let me know what you think. (I'm on tumblr and twitter known as ingrimasname)


	2. Red Marigolds Herald Spring’s Arrival (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's five years after the end of the war, but Edelgard's new empire is far from completed yet. With the help of her old friends, can they stop her former allies from undoing everything they have achieved? In the meantime, Edelgard struggles with what it means to raise a child of a fallen kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexandre is 6 years old at this point. I had to split this chapter up because it was way too big. The next part will be posted within a week or two!

* * *

Lone Moon, 1191

* * *

It was a quiet afternoon when Byleth Eisner finally answered her summons and arrived in Enbarr. When she set foot in the throne room, it didn’t matter that she interrupted Edelgard’s weekly meeting with the local lords. The room immediately fell quiet. Men and women, soldiers and civilians, former nobles and commoners alike bowed to the new archbishop of the Reformed Church of Sothis. 

Edelgard had been against reforming the faith at first. She would have preferred to do away with the church altogether and rely only on the strength and wit of mankind. But five years down the road, she had to admit that her teacher had been wise to convince her otherwise. The church would never again be the center of power and corruption it had been in the previous millennium, but faith did help ease the transition into one United Fodlan.

“Separating Religion from State, so one can balance out the other. To prevent either from growing corrupt many years from now, when you and I are long gone,” Byleth had explained all those years ago. Edelgard had given her ten years to prove her words as a favor for all her former professor had done for her. Edelgard had not believed it could be done, but looking at her subjects now, she could admit Byleth and Ferdinand had been right.

When they looked at Edelgard, the emperor of all of Fodlan, they did so with deference and respect. In contrast, they looked at Byleth like she was the light on a dark day. Edelgard may have given them the power to shape their own destiny, but her former teacher gave them the belief that the future was something worth fighting for. 

Some things had changed over the years. Hubert had grown his first grey hair, Alexandre could read and write, and Ferdinand had reformed the entire jurisdictional system, no longer allowing those of a certain social position to be judged differently than those born less fortunate. Land had been redistributed and titles made obsolete. The old world wasn’t dead, but it was well on its way to its death bed. 

But some things remained the same. Byleth’s face was still as eternally youthful as it had been the day they had first met. If the praise from the masses meant anything to her former teacher at all, then her impassive face showed none of it. She didn’t bow, merely nodded at Edelgard to announce her arrival.

“Thank you for coming, my teacher,” Edelgard greeted her warmly. During the war she had been averse to showing such perceived weakness, but peace had settled her nerves. They had won, and if she couldn’t greet one of her closest friends honestly, then what had been the point of it all?

Byleth nodded, a rare smile gracing her lips that left Edelgard feeling blessed. She quickly hid her own smile behind a cough and announced: “I hereby conclude this meeting. The Archbishop and I have many urgent matters to discuss.” 

That put a slight frown on Byleth’s face, although one who hadn’t spent the better part of their early twenties memorizing her every expression wouldn’t have noticed. Guards escorted out the few people who wanted to catch a glimpse of the woman who had helped their emperor reforge the world until it was just the two of them left. 

Once the room was empty, Edelgard came down from her high throne, resisting the urge to dive into Byleth’s arms like a child. Instead, they shook hands like old friends and retired to her private chambers together. As soon as she was settled in a comfortable chair with a steaming hot cup of tea in her hand, Byleth spoke again. “You seem well.” 

“I have been well, mostly,” Edelgard agreed. “The days are long, but paperwork and meetings are nothing compared to the toils of war.” 

Byleth nodded sagely. “They are preferable, though.” She then looked up from her teacup and surveyed the room. Her teacher’s eyes lingered on the pile of toys scattered in her ward’s favorite corner, and Edelgard felt oddly exposed. “How is Alexandre doing?”

“He’s growing up well. He’ll turn seven this year,” Edelgard said, rubbing the back of her neck. In one smooth movement, she hid a picture Alexandre had drawn for her under a stack of paper with her other hand. “He has been wanting to see you.” 

That was an understatement. Alexandre adored Byleth ever since she had taught him some basic footwork for swordplay in the palace kitchen, armed with only a ladle for a makeshift sword. She had given the task all of her attention and never treated him as anything but a worthy student. A teacher worth a hundred more, and Edelgard could speak from personal experience.

Alexandre had been starstruck. Edelgard had to listen to the praises he sang about her for weeks afterwards. In turn, her teacher had been kind but distant towards him, and sometimes Edelgard caught her gazing at Dimitri’s son with a longing she could never quite explain. The two had never been close, as far as she was aware. Then again, the professor had cared for all of them.

Byleth nodded. “I will visit him before I leave, then.” 

Edelgard blinked owlishly. “You just arrived, my teacher. Let us not speak of leaving yet.” Her words were more stern than she had intended, laced with well-concealed desperation. “Garreg Mach can survive without you for a while, surely.” 

“It can, and it will,” Byleth agreed, taking another sip of her tea. “However, I promised to journey through the former Alliance territories and defend the new doctrine to the old believers. A pilgrimage, of sorts.” 

“I wish you would stop calling it that, the former Alliance Territories. We’re all part of one United Fodlan now.”

Her teacher raised a single brow, unimpressed by her outburst. “History isn’t erased that easily, nor should you strive for it to be so.” 

Edelgard resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Of course, but it would be so much easier if people would simply accept the new reality.” 

She didn’t want to sound childish, but once the words fell from her lips, she couldn’t deny the naivety of her own words. She hid a pout in her teacup, but Byleth, who had known her for over a decade by now, knew better. 

Byleth sat up straight. Her tone turned gentle yet commanding, not unlike it had been during those distant summer days when they were only student and teacher. “Change is hard, especially when one has to change a fundamental part about oneself, the essence of their very identity. The Alliance may be gone from the map, but it is still alive in its people, in its stories and hymns. Over time, things will change, but that doesn’t mean that history will be forgotten, or that it should be.” 

Edelgard averted her eyes, unable to stand the knowing look in her teacher bestowed upon her. 

“Let time heal the wounds left on the land and the people. They will come around in time, you’ll see.” 

“And in the meantime?” 

“The war hasn’t ended yet,” Byleth said solemnly. “After the celebrations are done, Lysithea and I will be traveling through the Leicester Duchy until we reach Deirdru, and take a boat south from there to Morfis.”

Edelgard pictured the route in her mind and found it wholly implausible. “That is hardly an efficient route to travel. You would have to go around the entire continent of Almyra in order to reach Morfis from Deirdru. You would do well to simply take a boat from one of the coastal cities in Hevring. I’m certain Linhardt could arrange passage for the two of you.” 

Byleth nodded. “It is true that it is not a direct route. However, with the combined efforts of the Mittelfrank Opera Company and Lysithea’s own research, she has found some sensitive information about our former allies that we need to verify. She spoke of an unexpected ally we will be meeting before we reach our destination.” 

“Could you not send someone else? Shamir, perhaps?”

“Lysithea requested me, and me alone,” Byleth said, her tone as impassive and unrelenting as always. “The information was considered too sensitive to be sent by letter, so we will have to discuss it in depth once she arrives here as well.” 

“I understand.” She really didn’t, but vowed to ask Hubert later. Undoubtedly her second-in-command was hiding things from her. Again. “If there is anything you need from me…” She trailed off. Edelgard offered it every time out of respect and gratitude, but her teacher rarely took her up on her generous offer.

That drew a smile from her teacher, at last. “Then I will not hesitate to ask for it,” she said and briefly reached out to rub Edelgard’s knee comfortingly. “There is nothing I need. I do have one request though.” 

“Name it, and it shall be yours,” Edelgard said instantly, breathless. 

The kind smile turned teasing as Byleth stood up and put away the teapot as if it were her own. “I want to spar with you, like old times.”

That got her blood pumping. “That isn’t a request, that is a favor you’re doing me,” she said, but got up regardless. There were still mountains of funding proposals to comb through, and she needed to prepare herself for a meeting with Duke Holst Goneril tomorrow. But she had rarely been able to refuse her teacher anything, especially when it was something she wanted as well. The paperwork could wait, but the sun outside could not. She led the way out of her quarters with an eagerness she hadn’t felt in weeks.

Neither the professor’s dress nor her own had been made for fighting. The jewelry she wore was unbefitting of a warrior, and Edelgard’s heels made footwork awkward. It should have mattered, but it didn’t. When they stepped outside under the chilly winter sun, Edelgard was suddenly seventeen and almost innocent again, full of dreams and ambitions for a better world.

The training grounds for the imperial knights was perhaps not as cozy as the one at the monastery, but it housed at least as many knights. When their Emperor and Archbishop entered, they bowed deeply. Despite her many years as a key authority figure, the uneasiness radiated off her teacher in waves at the overt display of respect.

“Stop groveling and make way,” Edelgard commanded briskly as she made her way towards the training pit in the center. “You there! Bring a sturdy training sword for the Archbishop. And a similar axe for me, please. Come on, we haven’t got all day!” 

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The young boy nodded gravely as if she had asked him to take care of Fodlan all by himself, and nearly bent over backward to comply with her request in a timely fashion.

Edelgard kicked off her high heels unceremoniously and placed her crown none too gently in the grass outside of the ring. The many eyes trained on her meant nothing to her, except those of her beloved teacher. Byleth thanked the squire that gave her a training sword, making the young lad stumble over himself in his retreat.

She tested the weight of her own axe with a few practice swings. “You won’t hold back on me, will you?” Edelgard taunted.

“Never,” Byleth’s voice was deadly serious as she took the same battle stance she had been using ever since they first met, and raised her sword challenging at the Emperor’s throat. “Now, allow me to demonstrate!”

As always, Byleth dove in with unparalleled grace and ferocity, and forced Edelgard back with a sudden lash of her sword. Edelgard anticipated her opening move and quickly sidestepped to swing her own axe at her teacher. It was expertly blocked and countered, faster than before. Edelgard avoided the first and second hit, but not the third. The sword connected painfully with her jaw, and she tasted the blood on her lips.

She spat it out on the ground and smiled a little wilder. “I see you haven’t lost your touch,” she declared, black magic roaring to live under her fingertips as she send Bolganon whirling towards Byleth.

The powerful fire magic barely singed the tips of Byleth’s hair, and with a graceful backflip, she was back in the game, launching a bolt of Thunder at Edelgard mid-flight. It missed, but barely.

Axe met sword, magic was diverted, and blows were absorbed and given back with twice the strength. Edelgard could hear her heartbeat in her head but the only thought that crossed her mind was how much she had missed this, the thrill of battling an equal opponent.

She wasn’t mad when Byleth’s sword slipped past her defenses, nor did she cry out when her blood hit the floor. Around them the crowd looked on in silence, either from awe or horror, but none of it mattered except the sound of clashing wood and heaving bodies.

The battle went on in a blur, and Edelgard found herself unable to recall which spell scorched her dress, or if it was her blood or Byleth’s that was splattered across her skin. Her teacher was breathing heavily, but smiling wider than she had all day. She had taken some good hits as well, blood staining her robes.

They were veterans of a bloody war, and for all the horrors that haunted Edelgard at night, it had shaped her into who she was today: a warrior, rather than an emperor. Deep down, Byleth would always be a mercenary too. In the end, they were evenly matched. The battle could have continued forever if not for a single voice started cheering for her. It was the young squire, the one that had given the professor her sword. Once he started, it was as if he had unleashed a tidal wave, and with every attack, the crowd grew more rambunctious, cheering louder and louder.

Edelgard was not one to be distracted by praise, but there was one voice that made her startle, childishly high yet louder than men twice his size. “Go kick her butt, Edelgard!”

Her eyes darted towards the source, and indeed, Alexandre had joined the crowd. He was short for his age, but his eyes were as fiery as ever. She only looked at him for a split second, but it was a second too long. 

She felt Alexandre’s wince rather than hearing it when Byleth’s fist connected with her jaw. With renewed fervor, she launched herself back into the fight. She hit her teacher on the shins, then the back of her forearms, and once on her chest. Her blows left her wide open, but her best defense had always been her offense. 

Eventually, she knocked her former teacher to the ground. She held the head of the axe against her neck and smiled a bloody smile. “Do you surrender?” 

Byleth shrugged and nodded. “That was a satisfactory performance,” she said almost clinically. She seemed calm and in control, but the twinkle in her blue eyes betrayed her. The fire that burned within them both had been reignited. Edelgard had not been bred for politics, not been shaped for days behind a desk. They looked at the training axe in her hands and the blood that covered it.

They had both been forged from the dying flames of a civilization long past, and the blood on her hands was a gruesome reminder of the cost. Edelgard threw her axe away and cleaned her hands on her dress. Then, she reached out to her former teacher, who took it gladly.

They may not have been raised for peace, but they had gotten it all the same. 

It was as if the entire crowd had been holding a collective breath, but when Byleth took her hand, they released it together all at once. Knights, squires and maids applauded their fighting prowess, gossip already running haywire through the castle grounds. Edelgard almost regretted her actions.

“Back to work. Let this demonstration be a lesson to you all that hard work and dedication can make anyone great,” Edelgard declared loudly, raising her head high. Even with her heels on, most men and women easily towered over her. She must have looked a mess if the growing ache in her… everywhere… was any indication, but it didn’t matter.

When she walked past them, they all parted before her, bowing deeply. Nobody questioned them when they walked through the public and private halls of Enbarr castle, except for the persistent prattling of a young boy, right on their heels.

“And then! You soared through the air and launched fiery doom at Aunty! You were so fast, but she was even faster, of course!” Alexandre rambled, his little feet barely keeping up with their brisk pace. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling from ear to ear. “You have to teach me that! And the sword, I want to learn how to fight like that too! Just like the tale of Kyphon and Loog!” 

“Alexandre,” Edelgard chided him sternly. “We talked about this. When you’re older, you’ll learn how to fight. For now, your letters are giving you enough trouble.” 

“But Erica said that in the Kingdom children learned to hold a sword before they could even read!” He wined childishly.

Edelgard halted her stride and turned around resolutely. Her ward narrowly avoided bumping into her. “The Kingdom is gone, Alexandre, and so is the need for children to bleed!” she yelled at him, her entire body tense. When she saw Alexandre wince, she instantly regretted her outburst, even if it had been well-intended. “Just….There is no need for you to fight,” she amended, schooling her face into a mask of patience as if the mere thought of her ward going through the horrors she had didn’t flash before her eyes every time he brought it up, which was often.

Alexandre pouted. “But Aunty El, what if someone tries to attack you?”

“I am more than capable of protecting myself. And I have guards, and Hubert too.” Alexandre nodded at the mention of her second-in-command and muttered something about him being very scary indeed. 

He still looked worried, so Edelgard crouched down to her knees to meet him at eye-level. “Your stories are just that: stories. If you want to save the world, you’ll do so with words instead of swords. Practice those instead.”

The boy stomped his feet angrily on the ground. “But letters are boring! I want to fight, like you and the Professor!”

“When you’re older, we will see.” Byleth’s voice was neutral yet kind, and Edelgard sighed deeply when Alexandre didn’t protest at all this time. “But only if you apologize for your outburst. Your… aunty really just wants what’s best for you.” 

Why was he more compliant when Byleth was around? Edelgard resisted the urge to question Alexandre when he shuffled closer to her, clinging to her dress like he had often done when he was just a little toddler, freshly entrusted into her care.

“... I’m sorry,” he muttered, a hint of tears glistering in his eyes.

Edelgard sighed and gently caressed his blonde hair. It was getting long again. “You’re forgiven,” she said, wiping away the tears from his eyes before they could even fall. Alexandre sniffed, his anger already forgotten in a way only a six-year-old can seamlessly shift from one emotion to the other. She drew herself to her fullest height. “Now, run along. Don’t think I have forgotten your study schedule. We’ll...talk about this again, tonight.” 

The promise seemed to cheer him up. “Yes, Aunty. I’ll… try really hard! You’ll be proud of me!” His voice was earnest as he puffed up his chest, and Edelgard once again marveled at how tall he was growing. It was all going so fast.

“I’ll be counting on you, then.” Edelgard patted his head awkwardly and sent him on his way. They watched him bounce through the halls, humming a song under his breath that echoed through the age-old building.

When he disappeared around the corner, Byleth put a caring hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing well with him.” 

That startled Edelgard. Was she? The thought kept her up at night more often than she would like to admit. Taking care of Alexandre had become easier over the years with the help of his nanny and small army of tutors, but they still had breakfast together as often as they could. Between his quiet company while she worked in her study and the occasional bedtime story, it wasn’t much. She remembered her own mother, kind but distant until she wasn’t there at all. No, Alexandre deserved better.

A painful emotion she could not quite name swirled in her stomach and Edelgard swallowed repeatedly. “I… try, ” she acknowledged awkwardly when Byleth’s gaze turned questioning, and then quickly started walking again to banish the thought from both her mind and the conversation. 

“I did not think I would win that fight,” she admitted truthfully. 

“It would have been bad for morale if the Emperor lost in front of her troops.” The glint in Byleth’s eye told her all she needed to know.

“Probably, yes.” She tried not to let the disappointment be heard in her voice. “And yet…” 

She didn’t finish her sentence. As always, secrets towered between the two of them. Edelgard kept her own and she would be foolish to think that sudden forlorn mood that sometimes overtook her old professor didn’t hide its own mysteries. Perhaps, once the last battle was won, these things would no longer stand between them. 

But today was not that day, so Edelgard swallowed her regrets and never finished her sentence. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the guest quarters that were usually reserved for her closest friends. 

“How long will you stay?” Edelgard asked, showing Byleth her room. 

She took the key gratefully. “Until the day after the celebrations.” 

“Has it truly been five years already since that day?” Edelgard wondered out loud. “It doesn’t feel like half a decade has passed, and yet I feel twice my age.” 

For a moment, Byleth said nothing. Then, after she closed the door of her temporary room behind them, she muttered to herself: “We have lived many lives, even if we don’t remember them.” 

Edelgard frowned. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” Byleth excused herself. Those words had obviously not been meant for her ears. Only after Edelgard insisted several times did she continue to speak. “Just….long ago, when we chose this path, there were many other options before us.” Her voice took on a whimsical note and her eyes turned distant, as if she were recalling a story long ago. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t taken your hand, but sided with Rhea instead?”

“Rarely,” Edelgard lied.

Byleth looked at her with something that was either disappointment or pity. “It’s of no consequence, then. But for those of us who wonder what could have beens, every day happens twice or even thrice, in our recollection,” she explained like she had often done as a teacher. “Are you sure you never doubt?”

“I don’t have the luxury to doubt.” Edelgard felt like she was preaching to the chorus. For some reason, their conversations always returned to that question, in some form or another. Frankly, it was starting to irritate her. “Why are you still talking like this? We won the war. Outside, the preparations for the five-year anniversary of our victory is being lavishly prepared. No matter the option, we won, and the world is better off for it.” She bit out passionately while she walked towards the windows. These chambers were the very best she could offer, and the view of Enbarr covered in a delicate layer of white snow was wonderful. How could her teacher not see the fruits of her labor? What was the point of doubt? 

Byleth looked at the peaceful sight right outside her window before turning back to her with a grave expression on her face. “But Edelgard, the war isn’t over yet.” She repeated her words from earlier today. “Those Who Slither In The Dark still roam the land, sit at our tables, and plot our demise.” 

Edelgard winced at the mention of their name and suppressed the urge to close the blinds. As her teacher said, they could be anywhere. 

“I know. I know,” she said, biting her lip. “But we’ve overcome impossible odds before. Why not celebrate for now?”

Byleth didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked at her hands, and Edelgard could only imagine what it was she saw. After a quiet, morose moment, her teacher flinched right before she hid them behind her back.

“You’re right. Forgive me.” 

“Always,” Edelgard granted her, swallowing the many questions she harbored. There would be time for that after the war had truly ended.

For now, she had put off her duties as long as she could. She left Byleth to clean herself up and rest from her long journey while she returned to her study and her paperwork. The anniversary celebration wasn’t as grand as the plans for the Millenium Festival of Garreg Mach had been planned to be, but that was to be expected. War had ravaged the land for years, and farmers had traded plowshares for swords. It took time to teach a soldier how to be a shepherd again, but the world was mending for the better.

Every year, the rebellions that sprung up were suppressed faster. Many former nobles had willingly surrendered their titles in return for a reduced degree of land and power they retained. It had been Ferdinand’s plan to not strip all hierarchy from the land, especially in the parts that didn’t belong to the Empire before. She had been reluctant to agree, but the gamble paid off in the long run now that people started to see the benefits of her young reign.

Of course, there had been plenty of nobles who were beyond redemption and those who refused to part with any of their possessions. They died with their head raised high, and although Edelgard preferred a clean slate, reports clearly showed that those regions had the highest rebellion rates. 

Edelgard gave into temptation and went to her balcony to gaze at the capital of her empire. Not everything from the old world was useless, she had been forced to admit. But some things had to go. The grand cathedral of Seiros had been torn down brick by brick and a courthouse had been built in its stead. Not far from that the shrine to Saint Cichol had been transformed into a school for promising youth. 

They had done well in the past few years, but not everything was right. To the east of Enbarr, the slums still housed too many mouths to feed. The celebration next month would be a small feast for them, but it wouldn’t keep their stomachs full for long. Edelgard shook her head and thought of Dorothea before they ever met. She thought of a girl, filthier than filth itself, scavenging the streets.

The filth had been polished off to reveal a rose, unlike anything the city had ever seen. Who knew how many more geniuses were hiding under inequality today?

Edelgard turned her head away and dragged herself back inside. She spent the rest of her evening hunched over her desk, thinking of new ways to redirect resources she didn’t have into projects to rebuild faster, better. But every idea that passed the tip of her pen came up short.

In the end, when another calculation showed her that the next tax collection would only barely cover their current expenses, Edelgard broke her pen in half. She couldn’t defund the guards, not with Those Who Slither In The Dark roaming these very halls, waiting to strike. She could tax the institutions that supported them, but the collectors always came back with less money, if they came back at all. Five years of unrelenting subterfuge and espionage, and they still didn’t have proof of exactly who was part of the dark organization. Every time she spoke to her uncle, maintaining her own excuses and smile became harder while his became cockier. 

Without fail he kept sending her letters. They were filled with fancy words, saccharine well-wishes, carefully worded demands and undeniable threats against everything that mattered to her. The last time she had arrested one of his people on legitimate grounds, the mutilated body of an innocent child was found the next day with scars not unlike her own. The city had been in dismay, but Edelgard had received the message loud and clear, and strayed her hand the next time. She had learned the hard way that in order to eliminate Those Who Slither In The Dark, they needed to be one hundred percent sure they got every last one of them. Until that day arrived, she would bide her time and reply to her uncle's letters with polite ignorance. 

“ARGH!” Edelgard roared at the thought of his face, breaking her pen in the process. 

Of course, at that very moment, an unsuspecting maid entered the room to clean it. “Oh, Your Majesty! I… my deepest apologies, I hadn’t realized you were still here!” She fell to her knees, bowing repeatedly as if she was expecting to be hit.

Edelgard sighed and forced her frustration to cool down to a manageable heat. “It is fine, really. What time is it?”

“It’s two hours past midnight, Your Majesty,” the maid quickly explained, her forehead still pasted to the floorboards.

Edelgard looked around her study and finally noticed the molten wick of her candle and the large pile of discarded plans. Moonlight crept through the colored glass, casting long shadows over the maid’s face.

She was young, but her scars betrayed experiences beyond her years. “Please, get up… what is your name?” She forced her tone to be calm and patient, a skill she had picked up from raising Alexandre. It occurred to her that she didn’t know the name of a single servant in her palace.

The maid seemed taken aback and bowed deeply once more. “I-it’s Clarice, Your Majesty.” 

“Did you fight in the war, Clarice?” It wasn’t so much a question than a statement, and she was unsurprised when Clarice nodded. 

“J-Just for a short while.”

“You must have been very young then.” 

A hard look passed over her face for a second, aging her beyond her years in a way that Edelgard frequently saw in the mirror. “I had to defend my village, Your Majesty,” she said resolutely. It was only then that Edelgard realized that her skin was paler than most. 

“You’re not from the Empire, are you?” 

A look of panic crossed her face. “I am now, though,” she expressed with more confidence than before and met her eyes head-on. The determination that shined through caught Edelgard off-guard.

Once Clarice realized what she had said, her entire demeanor changed again. She dropped to her knees. “My apologies, Your Majesty! I didn’t mean to be rude!” 

“No need to apologize. You were right. You’re part of the Empire now.” Edelgard tried to sound comforting, as if she was talking to Alexandre. “I’ll be leaving now. Please don’t let me keep you from doing your job.” 

“Are you going to sleep, Your Majesty?” 

Edelgard turned to her, surprised at her sudden forwardness. “No, I intend to fulfill a promise I made,” she said truthfully.

Clarice nodded, and Edelgard closed the door of her study, leaving her behind. 

As expected, Alexandre was asleep when she entered his room, but he quickly woke up once he heard her footsteps. “You… promised… we’d talk.”

Edelgard sighed and sat down on the foot of his bed. “I’m sorry, little one,” she apologized and stroked his hair as it fanned out over the pillow. In the dark, he looked nothing like his father, and that made talking easier sometimes. “Sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“You always say that. But we never do,” Alexandre accused her, and Edelgard was too tired to deny it. Then she heard a small sniffle escape from him, and she could feel his eyes burn into her own. “Do you not like me?”

“I-I do,” she stuttered out immediately without any doubt. Her own admission, or rather the depth of her emotion that swirled up along with it, caught her off-guard. “Very much,” she added, but it didn’t cover it at all.

“Then why are you always leaving?” His words cut through her like a knife.

Had he been older, perhaps she would have told him. She would have told him how much it scared her, more than she would like to admit to her closest friends. But Alexandre was six years old and some things were better left unsaid anyway. 

Eventually she settled on: “It’s better this way.” 

“You always say that...” Alexandre said sourly, and Edelgard couldn’t deny the truth in his words.

Instead, she guided him to lay down again and adjusted the covers until he was comfortable. “You’ll understand, in time.” Or so she hoped. “Good night, Alexandre.” 

Alexandre yawned and muttered a reply while Edelgard quickly left the room before she could give in to the sudden urge to press a small kiss to the crown of his head. 

-

The final days leading up to the five-year celebration brought many familiar faces back to the capital, most of whom Edelgard hadn’t seen much of since the war. It made sense - a world at peace was a world rebuilding, and with the previous social hierarchy being replaced at a rapid pace, it was her former generals who filled in the gaps of power that were created in the process. 

It was a wonderful sunny day when Lysithea ambushed her after she finished a meeting with the Major of Enbarr.

“Edelgard! I mean, Your Majesty,” Lysithea quickly corrected. Edelgard returned the embrace stiffly, unused to the contact from someone who wasn’t two heads shorter than her. 

“How fared your journey?” she asked after they parted. 

“It was a hassle and took far too long,” Lysithea complained with a roll of her eyes. She looked tired and her hair had lost much of its luster, but her eyes still sparkled with fighting spirit. 

Edelgard resisted the uncharacteristic urge to hug her again and instead shook her hand politely. She didn’t remark on the unnatural paleness of her skin, and neither did Lysithea comment about the obvious dark circles that Edelgard’s perpetual lack of sleep painted on her face. Even in the middle of the capital, in full view, there was never much need for pretending with Lysithea.

“I heard from the Professor you’re going on a journey?” Edelgard remarked when she set a brisk pace back to her horse. She had an afternoon appointment with a messenger from Brigid in less than an hour.

Lysithea shot her a warning look at her Emperor and ally “I am,” she said decisively, daring Edelgard to say another word.

Edelgard suspected her horse would not disclose their secrets. Still, the walls had ears, and while there was much to discuss, this wasn’t the time or place.

“I am merely curious why you decided to visit Almyra.”

Lysithea hesitated for a moment before carefully choosing her words. “An old friend contacted me. I’m taking a holiday.”

Byleth had left that part out. “An old friend? Someone I know?” 

Lysithea gave her a curious look, and Edelgard felt like she was missing something. “To a certain degree.”

They chatted about restoration and reparations. House Ordelia willingly gave up their noble title and lands and quickly disappeared from public view.. Lysithea assured her that her parents were doing well in their retirement, living in quiet but comfortable obscurity. 

Edelgard had offered to give her control of Ordelia land, but Lysithea declined, preferring to use her remaining time in this world for her research. She and Hanneman traveled all over the world under the guise of crest research, and although Hanneman was officially left in the dark about her other activities, Edelgard couldn’t imagine he was completely unaware. 

She respected him, but his fascination with crests borderlined an obsession, one that Lysithea and Edelgard had agreed could turn against them quickly if they didn’t tread carefully. Besides, the fewer people knew about their plans, the better.

Despite her obvious fatigue, Lysithea was a most animated conversation partner, whip-smart and understanding. Sometimes it felt that they had been cut from the same cloth, and Edelgard had missed her dearly these past lonely years.

Speaking of people she had missed: “Lysithea! You look as radiant as ever!” 

Edelgard heard her heart race before she could spot the source of that lovely, lovely voice. Dorothea, in all her splendor, ran towards them the second they entered the castle grounds, and lifted Lysithea from her horse with surprising strength. 

“Dorothea, would you please put me down! I do not wish to be coddled!” Lysithea’s irritated shout grounded Edelgard from her reverie. Dorothea looked almost disappointed when she put Lysithea back on the ground.

“Dorothea, I wasn’t aware you had returned to the capital.” Which wasn’t strange, since Dorothea’s letters had been few and far in between. At first, they had written to each other weekly, then monthly. Now Edelgard was lucky to receive more than four letters a year.

Time had barely touched Dorothea. If anything, five years had aged her like a fine wine, more beautiful than ever. Her voice was just as warm as she remembered in her fondest dreams. “Oh Edie, I’m sorry! But I wouldn’t have missed our class reunion for the world.”

“It’s hardly a reunion,” Edelgard disagreed instinctively, but then shook her head. Today was a good day. There was no need to sully it by arguing. “But it is… good to see you again.”

She held out her hand politely, and like a valiant knight in one of her operas, Dorothea bent down on one knee to kiss it. Edelgard quickly looked the other way, forcing the blush on her face to recede.

“But it is a reunion! I think Hubie has a plan to drag Bernie out of her tower and Petra is going to arrive next week if I’m to believe her letters.” 

Edelgard was rather certain that Hubert’s plan involved convincing Bernadetta that patricide was a valid solution for her problems, and one he would most gladly lend his expertise in, but she refrained from mentioning it in front of her two friends. 

“I even ran into Felix on my journey here,” Dorothea continued off-handedly. “We traveled together the last two moons.”

“Felix?” Now that was a face she had never expected to see in Enbarr ever again. Her thoughts immediately went to Alexandre. He wouldn’t hurt him, right? Probably not, but the uneasy feeling in her stomach did not go away. “You wouldn’t know where he is right now, would you?”

Dorothea looked slightly disappointed, although Edelgard couldn’t put her finger on exactly why that was. “Knowing good old predictable Fe, he’s probably at some kind of training ground.” 

Edelgard suppressed a sigh of relief. Alexandre had been banned from the training grounds after he harassed Byleth with ardent requests to teach him how to fight. “Yes. That would be… logical.” 

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Edelgard excused herself and left. 

Felix wasn’t at the training grounds. He also wasn’t with Byleth, who was having tea with a young noble lady who was only barely familiar to Edelgard, but was apparently related to Caspar. 

“Try the stables,” Byleth told her with a knowing spark in her eyes before returning to her conversation with the young girl. As usual, there was some kind of joke here that she was not privy to, and it annoyed her greatly.

When she entered the royal stables, it wasn’t Felix she spotted, but Alexandre and Ferdinand. They were too deep in conversation to hear her approach. Edelgard hid behind one of the stable doors and peeked around it. It felt delightfully childish.

“A horse is the most noble of animals! Before you can ride one, you must learn to care for them,” Ferdinand explained passionately while he stroked the mane of a short horse. Too short to be a warhorse, too lean to plow the field. This was most likely one of Ferdinand’s personal pet breeding projects. 

If that was the case, the fact that he had allowed Alexandre to sit on the undoubtedly priceless horse’s back and was teaching him how to brush its mane was even more surprising. Hubert complained time and again that not even he was allowed to ride let alone touch Ferdinand’s prized racehorses. 

For a moment, she thought Alexandre had spotted her from her hiding place, but then he turned back to Ferdinand. “Aunty says that nobility doesn’t make people better than other people. What about horses?” he asked with childish simplicity. “I like my dog more.”

Ferdinand looked uneasy for a split second, but neither his enthusiasm nor patience faltered when he spoke again. “Her Majesty isn’t wrong. And while your dog certainly has a certain joie de vivre we envy, a horse has its own merit to consider,” he explained diligently, guiding Alexandre’s hand through the horse’s long mane. “Look at her luscious golden locks, the shine to her coat. The way her hooves gallop gently yet powerfully when she is in motion. She is both strength and beauty far beyond anything a human could ever possess, and yet she allows us to ride on top of her anyway. That is truly noble.” 

Neither Edelgard nor Hubert shared Ferdinand’s boundless love for horses. It seemed like he had at long last found a kindred soul in Alexandre.

Alexandre combed the horse’s mane as if he were tending to the hair of the goddess herself, and was swiftly rewarded with a big, gentle lick on his hand. “She licked me!” he squealed in delight, his abundant giggles filling the old stables with joy. “Does that mean she likes me?”

Ferdinand seemed equally delighted. “I think you won her over, Alexandre! You’re a natural, for my dear Penelope doesn’t just bestow her favor upon anyone! You must have a noble heart beating in your chest.”

“You really think so? Like in the stories? Like Kyphon and Loog?” 

She didn’t hear what Ferdinand said after that, because her attention was drawn to the intake of breath right above her. She looked up to see Felix sitting in the woodwork of the roof, looking at the scene below him with either nostalgia or disdain.

He looked… frankly, he looked worse than she had ever seen him, and she had seen him covered in the blood of his childhood friends. His hair was long and wild, cut uneven and covering one eye altogether. When he turned to her, she could see that the eye hidden underneath it was pale and lifeless, a badly healed scar running through his eyelid.

His voice was as biting as it had always been. Some things never change. “Took you long enough to notice me.”

“Hello to you too, Felix,” Edelgard said, polite to the point of sarcasm. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here. I didn’t think you would come.”

Felix snorted ungracefully. “Dorothea forced me.” Edelgard highly doubted that, but didn’t comment on it. “I was nearby anyway.”

Felix made no attempt at small talk, and the silence stretched between them unpleasantly. It was always best to get to the point immediately with the former Fraldarius heir, so Edelgard cut straight to the chase. “Will you stay for the anniversary of the end of the war?”

“I suppose. I’m currently between contracts anyway.” His eyes never met her own but remained trained on Alexandre the entire time. Ferdinand glanced their way a couple of times, their chatter having given their location away, but other than a short nod, he continued his lessons. 

“He’s… _grown_.” Felix surprised her by saying softly with a gentleness she hadn’t known he was capable of.

Out of mercy, she ignored the slight tremor in his voice. “He has. He is doing well in his studies, although he has no apparent aptitude to his letters or numbers.”

That drew something akin to a fond laugh out off Felix that made him seem a few years younger. “Neither did his parents. They both shared a fondness for horses, too.”

Edelgard did a double-take. “You say parents as in, mother and father,” she repeated slowly, authority seeping through every quietly spoken word. “Felix, do you know the identity of his mother?” 

Hubert had tried time and again to unearth the identity of Alexandre’s mother in the first few years of his life at the palace, but eventually, they gave up finding her name. Whoever she was, Alexandre looked nothing like her. But to think that the answer had been within reach all this time was infuriating, to say the very least. 

“As if it isn’t obvious,” Felix scoffed, his eyes burning holes into Alexandre’s back with a ferocity that she was surprised that her ward hadn’t noticed it yet.

“It really isn’t,” Edelgard deadpanned, resisting the urge to do away with all proprietary and deck him in the face. 

Felix looked her in the eyes for the first time, and only now could she see how he had aged both decades, and not at all. He seemed startled, for some reason Edelgard could not phantom.

He did not hold her gaze for long. He never did. “Her name doesn’t matter. She’s somebody long dead. I would know. She fell to my blade.” 

“Felix.” Edelgard’s voice was dark and booming. “Who. Is. His. _Mother_?”

Lesser men would have fallen to their knees when she promised death with her tone alone, but Felix only grew more recalcitrant. “I don’t answer to you,” he bit back childishly. 

Before the urge to start a fight became overpowering, Edelgard regulated her breathing and went for a different approach. “Is her family still alive?"

“Her father and a few siblings.” Getting answers from him was like pulling teeth. “They are barely scraping by as it is. They won’t come knocking on your fancy doorstep demanding for him, even if they knew who he is.”

The relief that washed over her was as unexpected as it was worrying. “What about you? Will you take him away? I am well aware of the family legacy.”

“No.” Felix bit out. “I gave up my name and title. The legacy of Kyphon and Loog is dead, and for the better too. No more needless sacrifice in the name of chivalry.”

“Will you stay in the capital?” Edelgard wondered out loud. “You were a general during the war, and it would be easy to find a similar position for you here that suits you.”

“I will go wherever my blade takes me.”

“Then why did it bring you here?” she asked, searching his eyes for answers he would never give her. He looked broken, right up until the point that Alexandre smiled. “We both know Dorothea couldn’t truly force you to do something you don’t want.”

“Like you would understand.” Felix’s fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword, but instead of leaping down and attacking her, he turned away from her rudely. “Leave me in peace, woman. Don’t you have an empire to govern, oh great emperor?”

Emperors of the past had executed people for such rudeness, but Edelgard was not those people, and her bark was a good as her bite. “As a matter of fact, I do. Don’t you have something better to do than wallow in self-pity? Good day, Felix.” She mock saluted him, only to hear him scoff. Knowing better than expect any polite conversation, she turned around to leave as silently as she had come, but not before issuing a final warning: “Don’t hurt him.”

Felix scoffed. “Likewise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I had three different projects that came up after nano that required my attention over editing this monster chapter. Currently, it's 16k in total, so I had to split it up in several parts.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I loved portraying Alexandre as a spoiled yet earnest brat, which is on point for children his age. The fighting scene was hard to write (it's been a while...) but it was fun to show that you can talk in many different languages, and not all of them are spoken with words. There is a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter but I suppose that unlike Edelgard, all of you understand exactly who Alexandre's mother is. Congratulations to everyone that guessed correctly! 
> 
> The interaction between Edelgard and Felix is one of my favorites because he gets to call her out on all of her bullshit, but unlike Dimitri, she doesn't let him get away with any of his own. I have rarely written two people who dislike each other more and let me tell you, it's hilarious. They're both a mess, though in completely different ways. And yes, Felix having a blind eye is a reference to Dimitri and becoming the very beast he claimed to hate so much. He's pretty much a murder hobo at this point, while Ferdinand is out there living his best life with his BF, dream job and horses. But don't worry, I stand by the words that it takes a village to raise a child, or in Alexandre's case, a former Black Eagle Strike Force. If there's something I love about children, is that it inspires their caretakers to be the very best version of themselves, even if it takes them a while to get their shit together. And Felix has always been a bit slow to seeing reason, hasn't he? 
> 
> You can also find me on[ tumblr](https://ingrimasname.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/ingrimasname) nowadays. Please talk to me!


	3. Red Marigolds Herald Spring’s Arrival (Part II)

* * *

Great Tree Moon, 1191

* * *

At long last, the anniversary of the end of the war was upon them. The weather cleared up and revealed a lovely early spring heat that was unusual for the time of the year. 

Five years ago, Edelgard stood in Fhirdiad, clutching her teacher’s dead body in her arms until she miraculously started breathing again. Today, they sat side by side, their days filled with paperwork instead of war councils, but their scars were as deep as they had ever been. Still, they had come a long way, and for once, Edelgard allowed herself to smile easily.

The festivities opened with an official state banquet, to which all the surviving key players of the war and important foreign dignitaries were invited. After Edelgard's short speech, a bishop took the stage and proclaimed in a lengthy monologue that the unusually fair spring weather was the work of the goddess herself, blessing the young Empire of United Fodlan with her warmth. Edelgard’s eyes darted to Byleth several times during the speech, biting her tongue. Byleth's expression didn’t betray anything of her inner thoughts.

Privately, Edelgard mused that not even she could deny that they had been blessed by the goddess, but not in the way that most clergymen would suspect. When their eyes met, Edelgard felt for once like she was in on an inside joke. It was a good feeling, and a good night, celebrating the wonders of a world at peace with friends.

Her eyes darted to Alexandre, who was seated at a table on the side, far away from where the royalty dined. But before the third course was served, he completely disregarded her instructions to stay put. Instead, he wandered towards her and climbed onto her lap.

Byleth politely hid her smile behind her hand, and if Edelgard had been a religious woman, she would have prayed that nobody else had spotted her ward.

“Alexandre, please return to your seat,” she chided him through gritted teeth for what seemed like the thousandth time this week. 

Alexandre replied by folding her napkin into a bird.

“I won’t say it again. _Now_ , Alexandre.”

“But _Elllll_ ,” he whined and took one of her spoons to play with it, oblivious to the impropriety of the situation. In a way, it was her own fault for hiding him away so often in the safety of her palace. This was his first formal state dinner, and it seemed that Ferdinand's lessons in etiquette had been inadequate. 

“Don’t talk back to me, and don’t call me that here,” Edelgard hissed, looking around desperately for his nanny. “You’re not getting any dessert if you don’t return to your seat right this instant and finish your food.”

That sure got his attention, and with great theatrics, Alexandre ducked back under the tablecloth to crawl back to his seat. It was the very opposite of a strategic retreat, but she had to fight down a smile that crept up her face all the same. Edelgard quickly scanned the room, hoping that nobody important had witnessed their little exchange.

Unsurprising, she was not so lucky. 

“Quite the strapping young lad, don’t you agree?” 

Edelgard barely suppressed a flinch when she heard his voice, and had to fight to maintain a polite smile. She turned to the man that had silently approached her, feeling a familiar loathing swell up in her. Next to her, Byleth tensed, but Edelgard was a practiced liar. 

“Dear Uncle, what a pleasure to see you. I didn’t think you would be able to make it.” Or rather, she had hoped that he wouldn’t. Since the war ended, they had met a handful of times. Each time she felt more tempted to put a blade between his shoulder blades the moment his back was turned. She would, one day, but the time wasn’t ripe yet, and so the dagger stayed hidden beneath her dress. _For now._

“You were quite similar at that age, if I remember correctly,” Lord Arundel wondered out loud, and to an innocent onlooker, it must have been endearing. Edelgard knew better. “As was another boy I happened to know. But he has long since passed.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about Uncle," Edelgard said evenly. Internally, she panicked. Did he know about Alexandre’s heritage? 

“Of course, my apologies." Lord Arundel's enigmatic smile only served to raise her blood pressure.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, dear Uncle?” she asked sweetly. “You haven’t visited the capital in months.”

“As you know, peace has been a busy time in my lands. It merely took me some time to reorganize,” he answered back smoothly. “A sentiment I'm sure you're familiar with.”

Edelgard pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth as hard as she could. “Whatever could you mean by that?”

Lord Arundel’s smile was full of teeth. “Can’t an uncle praise his niece for her hard work rebuilding the country? And while raising a child, too. Truly a remarkable effort befitting a remarkable young woman.”

“I am merely his guardian,” Edelgard defended quickly out of reflex. “I can hardly be credited for his education or his upbringing.” 

Her uncle took a step closer towards her, and bent down. “That is not what my people tell me,” he said in hushed tones. “They tell me you two are rather close.” 

“Then perhaps you should consider getting new personnel,” she countered, unable to keep the venom out of her voice. “Since your current ones are obviously incapable of collecting the right intel. Won’t you give me their names, dear Uncle, so I can set them right myself?” 

“I thank you for your… _concern…_ but that is hardly necessary.” 

“I believe it is. After all, I so dislike keeping you in the dark.” Even if people couldn’t hear their hushed conversations of smoke and mirrors, Edelgard was certain the shared hatred could be tasted in the air. “Their names? Or are you keen on disobeying a direct order from your emperor?”

“I wouldn’t dare. However, as you must be aware, I can hardly be expected to know the names of all those who serve underneath me.”

She thought of Clarice and of Alexandre’s nanny, but most of all of Dorothea, wonderful and bright and sorely missing from this event. Even without the sins committed from the shadows, Lord Arundel was a bad as the nobility she had dethroned, pompous and arrogant. 

_Today is not the day,_ Edelgard repeated again and again in her mind. Biding her time had served her well in the past, although the months spent at Garreg Mach paled in comparison to the years she wasted keeping up this little charade. 

She presented her uncle a radiant smile, one that said _you are the lowest of vermin_. “Of course, Uncle. Your time is much more precious than that.” 

“And I thank you for your understanding,” Lord Arundel crooned right back. “Still, even if he is nothing but your ward, the boy is young and full of promise. It would be a _shame_ if anything would happen to him.” 

Edelgard’s lips went tight. “Is that a threat?”

“Oh, I would never dare to threaten the Emperor’s child - pardon me, _ward_ \- in bright daylight.” He leaned in close, twisting a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Besides, you know I don't make threats. I make _promises_. Remember Arianrhod. Remember who made you, and who can _unmake_ you,” he hissed. Edelgard barely resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

Before she could give in to the urge, he left her comfort zone and bowed dramatically before departing. “It was a pleasure speaking to you. I will be around for a while.”

Edelgard only waited long enough until he was out of earshot to beckon Hubert closer. He was at her side within seconds.

“Did you catch that?”

“I could read the gist of your conversation from your lips,” he answered truthfully. His eyes were glued onto the back of Lord Arundel. “Should we move up our timetable?”

Her heart and fists screamed _yes_ , but her mind had long conquered her other desires. Edelgard shook her head. “No, we wait until the moment is perfect.” 

“What about Alexandre?” Byleth spoke next to her. Edelgard turned to her. She had forgotten that she had been there to witness the entire exchange. Her teacher could be downright invisible if she so desired.

“I will station more guards,” Edelgard said, her mind already working through the names of who she could and couldn’t trust. As always, when it came to Those Who Slither In The Dark, she was grasping at straws at best. “Hubert, I want you to shadow Lord Arundel’s every step. If he even breathes suspiciously, I want to know it.”

He bowed deeply. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Edelgard’s eyes flicked to Alexandre, who had dutifully returned to his own seat. When he caught her gaze, he waved at her enthusiastically and gestured at his empty plate. It was only then that she remembered her promise. He had dutifully stayed out of the spotlight, right where he would be an easy target for any assassin worth their name. _Why, even now after they had tasted victory after victory, was she still playing a losing game?_

She forced herself to smile for Alexandre’s sake and felt her heart beat in her throat when his smile widened even further at her approval. _How much longer could she protect that innocence?_

The rest of the night the food and wine tasted like ash on her tongue, and whatever sense of victory she had felt was thoroughly lost.

-

The five-year-anniversary of the war was celebrated with a month of festivities spread out all over the new Empire. Her entourage traveled from city to city, making appearances, delivering speeches and meeting with the foreign leaders who had chosen this moment to re-establish connections with the newly formed Empire. 

The mysterious newly-crowned king of Almyra had declined the invitation, but the young queen of the recently emancipated Kingdom of Brigid did show up when they reached a port town that formed the central trading hub with Brigid. Petra looked radiant and happier than Edelgard had ever seen her, and although it hadn’t been in Fodlan’s best financial interest to release the former colony, she was glad all the same. For as long as they both lived, she never needed to worry about the warm ties between the countries, if Petra’s warm embrace was anything to go by.

“I am pleased to have seen you,” Petra whispered in her ear before bowing shallowly for her, like a queen of equal standing would. Edelgard smiled despite it all and returned the favor. Encounters like these made the days bearable.

But her revolution would have been for naught if she only met with the nobility. Edelgard awarded war heroes with medals, and laid flowers at the graves of the dead. The red marigolds were beautiful, but seemed insignificant next to the rows and rows of wooden grave markers. She did not remember how many of these men and women she had felled herself or whether they had died for her cause. It didn't matter anymore; they were one Fodlan now, and all the dead were buried beside each other. For the first time in years, Edelgard prayed to the goddess, making a public show of the Empire’s endorsement of the new faith. Byleth prayed beside her, not unlike their days at the monastery.

It was good to see the continent starting to heal from the horrors of war, but as they passed from town to town it wasn't hard to see that they still had a long way to go. Alliance nobles had always been a more self-serving than Kingdom nobles, but they remained fiercely independent. Dealing with them was dance of giving and taking, but it was one she was starting to learn well. As long as their relationship was mutually beneficial, they were willing to bow to their new Emperor. 

The duchy of Faerghus was a different matter. They respected her strength enough not to openly rebel, but she wasn't so blinded by success to think Dimitri's former kingdom followed her out of love or affection. 

Her conversation with Lord Arundel was never far from her mind, casting a dark shadow over the otherwise joyous journey. The first night she hadn’t slept more than an hour, too afraid of every shadow that moved in her dimly lit tent. Her sleep-addled mind only aided her paranoia. Where Alexandre’s guards her own men, or did they serve Those Who Slither In The Dark. And if they didn't strike today, then perhaps tomorrow? Bringing him along was a last-minute decision, but Hubert had agreed that it would be better to expose him a little to the world than to find him dead by the time they returned to Enbarr. Alexandre was over the moon to see Fodlan up close, and it was only once he started babbling about how much he had dreamed of seeing the world, that she realized how much she kept him hidden. It was for his own good, of course, but that didn’t ease the guilt. Nobody liked being confined in a cage, even if it was a golden one. A gilded cage was still a prison, and she would know that better than anyone.

Every morning, Alexandre met her for breakfast, alive and breathing. At night he slept in her tent where she counted the rise and fall of his chest until it lulled her to sleep. Still, the thought that each tranquil moment could be his last plagued her mind day and night. 

The fact that Hubert’s reports remained uninformative did not ease her worries at all. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that her uncle was nothing more than a stuck-up noble who indulged in the wine and women. He was up to something, or he would not have called her out as he had.

So instead, she dressed Alexandre herself every morning in fine red silk and sturdy jackets. He had complained loudly that his clothes were too heavy until she revealed the woven chainmail inside. It wasn’t thick enough to stop an arrow shot from a few meters away, but it could absorb a slash from a hidden knife. 

To her ward, it was nothing but a game, the armor of a knight like the ones he read about so eagerly. Not unlike the heroes of his bedtime stories, he proclaimed boldly that he would protect her. He recited the vows from his stories with far more accuracy than he was ever able to produce from his other studies, but it was an endearing sight all the same.

Having Alexandre out in the open meant that she was either painting a bullseye on his back, or keeping him safe. Edelgard prayed for the latter, but still kept him close at all times. She had always shielded him from the outside to discourage any rumors about his existence or parentage, and to give him a burdenless childhood. Her change of tactic disarmed some of the more distrustful leaders she shook hands with. Nobles and commoners alike were charmed by his kind but brave words. He was far more confident and poised than six-year-old had any right to be. Perhaps Ferdinand's lessons hadn't been entirely useless after all!

It surprised her to see him thrive. Normally, enforcing court manners and politeness into a six-year-old was a chore, but Alexandre flourished under the spotlight. He took his job as her protector very seriously, but when small village children bowed before him, his radiant smile was genuine. 

His joy was infectious, and for the first time since she had spoken to Lord Arundel, she felt like she had won the war. A child’s smile, unbroken by classes, faith, or experiments. A childhood uninterrupted. It reminded her why she had sacrificed so much. 

It made her feel proud of what they had done in five short years, but more than that, she felt old and tired. She had brought change to this country, and although not everyone could see it yet, their hard-won progress was slowly changing the world for the better. 

But they were far from done, and as long as her uncle lived and breathed, there would never be peace. Many long nights were spent hulking together with her closest confidants, scraping together every bit of information they could find. Whoever Lysithea’s old friend may be, their intel on Those Who Slither in the Dark was astounding. 

Slowly but surely, Hubert and Ferdinand were able to uncover which leaders were in league with them. It was a painstakingly slow process because if they were to unearth their former allies’ dirty laundry for the world to see, they would need to be thorough and backed up with such overwhelming evidence that there could be no doubt about their sins. These people - for lack of a better word - had covered up their operations so well for such a long time that it was nearly impossible to find weak spots. 

But recently, their scheming had become more evident, almost as if they were taunting her into action. Why? That was a thought that plagued her night and day, one that made her keep Alexandre close. 

They all had theories about the motives of Those Who Slither In The Dark. The most dominant one belonged to Byleth, who insisted that at the core laid a desire to destroy the people of Fodlan from within. Edelgard found it hard to believe that anyone would dedicate centuries of suffering to such petty vengeance, but the evidence was damning. Still, there was so much they didn’t know.

But her people didn’t know about the shadowy threat that loomed over the young empire. They celebrated, chanted her name joyously, and indulged in dancing and drinks. They believed that the war was over. It was for the best, probably. 

-

Edelgard didn't remember exactly when she had allowed Alexandre to ride with her on her horse, but it was probably some time after they had left Deirdre. By the time the celebrations drew to an end, he barely saw his nanny at all. That would change again once they were back in the capital, but instead of feeling relieved, she felt homesick for days that had yet to pass.

All too soon, the gates of Enbarr came in sight. Edelgard vowed to make the last night of their little holiday memorable. After their horses were stabled and they finished their dinner at the palace, she pretended to let him lead the way towards what she considered the highlight of the celebrations: Dorothea’s play. 

The opera house had been repaired with the utmost care for tradition in mind, although some religious paintings on the ceiling remained lost. A young, pale man led them to their private seats in the opera house. “Your Majesty, young sir. This way, please.”

The royal box was large enough to seat the traditionally large imperial family, as well as their many concubines and staff members. Edelgard settled Alexandre in a seat next to her own while Hubert and Ferdinand took those directly behind her. Petra had declined a seat in favor of one with her delegation. Casper and Linhardt, whose families owned their own private boxes, had declined as well. From a distance, she could see Linhardt napping already, and she wondered why he had bothered to show up at all. He was her minister of internal affairs in name only, preferring to spend his days on his research. Bernadetta had uttered something like to _‘rather dying than going out,’_ so she was absent as well. 

She understood their reasons, but the empty chairs felt like ghosts, haunting her with memories of a childhood long lost where she had to fight for a good seat with her many siblings.

Alexandre was completely unaware of her silent anguish. “That’s a lot of people…,” he wondered out loud, his pale green eyes lit up with excitement. “Why are we up so high?”

“Because there is no better way to experience the joys of opera, my dear boy,” Ferdinand explained patiently as always. Edelgard didn't miss the way Hubert's fingers sought out Ferdinand's, although his eyes never stopped looking for potential threats. 

“Then why is it so dark?” Alexandre said when the lights went out. “I can barely see my feet!”

“We are not here to look, but to listen,” Hubert hissed, the insult plain in his voice. 

Alexandre had grown up with Hubert serving his every whim and thus was entirely immune to his methods of intimidation. He swung his little legs back and forth impatiently until the performance started.

Before long, the prima donna of the Mittelfrank Opera Company took the stage, and Edelgard begged her beating heart to take a breather. Dorothea's voice, lovely and captivating as always, told a tale of woe and justice. In honor of the end of the war, the Mittelfrank Opera Company put together a war drama depicting the journey and sacrifice of the emperor and her companions, and the starring role went to none other than Dorothea. Edelgard initially forbade the company from staging it, but was eventually persuaded by Dorothea’s passionate performance to rescind that decree. 

It had been the right decision. Dorothea's opera was not entirely historically accurate, and yet her words felt like they were softly driving daggers through Edelgard’s chest. All of her hardships and sacrifices laid bare before her in song and dance. Dorothea was a master in her art, and her performance was one for the ages.

Edelgard closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to fall for the first time in years, her heart cleaned of burdens by the enchanting voice of a siren. For a moment, all was lost to her: time and space, titles and duties, lives and legacies. None of it mattered in the ocean of Dorothea's voice. Edelgard bathed in the warmth of hope and affection that erupted inside of her like a volcano whenever Dorothea sang. 

She flinched back into existence when Alexandre tugged at her sleeve. “Who is that?”

Edelgard took a deep breath, remembering where and who she was. “That’s Dorothea. Do you remember her?” 

Alexandre shook his head, but when she pointed at Dorothea, out he waved at her regardless. 

To his disappointment, she did not wave back. Before long, he became fed up with sitting still and started to climb out of his chair. “This is boring. Will there be horses soon? There were horses at the war, right?”

Edelgard was about to disappoint him with the truth, but before she could tell him that there would not be horses in the opera house, the tone of the performance changed, and with it, a man took the stage. 

She blinked and blinked again, wondering if her eyes betrayed her. The graceful man dancing to the serene tones of Dorothea’s voice promised lethality and seduction with every flick of his wrist. He and his sword moved as one to the music, but it was a dance of mourning rather than murder. She felt energized just watching him move.

“Who is that?” Alexandre asked, suddenly on the edge of his seat. 

Before she could find her words, the dancer turned sharply to them. He never interrupted his dance but found and held her gaze the entire time, challenging her openly. His blind eye was carefully concealed by a dancer’s veil, but she would recognize that scornful gaze anywhere.

“That’s Felix,” Edelgard answered without a shred of doubt. Whoever cleaned him up should be awarded a medal. “You met him once, back when you were small.”

He had all but vanished with the wind after their short meeting in the stables last month. She vaguely remembered that he had been a dancer during the war, one of unparalleled skill, but a reluctant one nevertheless. Frankly, every time she saw him, she thought it would be the last time.

“The mean-looking man?” Alexandre questioned, never taking his eyes off the hypnotizing movements of Felix’s sword. Edelgard was honestly surprised he remembered that brief encounter from his early childhood. 

“It isn’t polite to call people that, Alexandre,” she chided him.

On the stage, the scene changed to the battle of Tailtean Plains. The drums beat to the tune of an ancient Faerghus song, and Felix and Dorothea danced a tragedy in pas-de-deux while the rest of the troupe around them fought the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. When the King of Lions fell, and with him, his Kingdom, it wasn’t a victory horn that played. It was a funeral march. 

She could hear the crowd murmur and Hubert curse under his breath. The play had been downright propaganda for the Empire up until this point, but this macabre dance posed her in a different light. Was this how Dimitri had seen her in his final moments? A woman of flesh and blood, uncertain yet unwavering? A villain rather than a savior?

This was bad for public opinion,but as Dorothea floated over the stage and claimed victory for the Empire while Seiros abandoned the Kingdom, Edelgard didn't feel anger. It was the feeling of a thousand puzzle pieces, finally clicking into place. Clarity, and with the full picture in sight at last, regret. This song wasn’t a rebellion or subordination. This was the echo of a grieving country, hundreds of years of history coming to an end before her eyes.

Her eyes drifted to Alexandre, who had jumped up from his seat and was standing on his tiptoes to look over the railing of the balcony.

She longed to reach out to him. To tell him... _something_. To make him understand the significance of what he was watching, and why she had done what she did. To answer a question he had not yet asked, but she knew he one day would.

And then, just like real combat, the tides and song changed abruptly. The show continued on a more positive note and the Empire prevailed over the children of the Goddess with Dorothea’s usual flair.

When the final curtain fell, Edelgard held her breath. For a second, nobody breathed and the room was silent. Then, one by one people slowly started cheering, until the entire crowd of dignified people were standing on their seats to give a standing ovation.

Dorothea was rightfully bathed in roses, and she gracefully accepted their praise. Edelgard cursed herself for not bringing a flower of her own.

“Forgot something?” Ferdinand teased and procured a beautiful but fake marigold from his coat pocket.

Edelgard took the red flower a bit too eagerly, fighting down a blush. “You have my thanks, Ferdinand.” 

“Do not mention it. I ordered a dozen bouquets for each of the performers.” He smiled at her brilliantly while Hubert rolled his eyes. “Now, I’m sure Dorothea is waiting for you, Your Majesty. Give her my love.” 

She turned around to gather her belongings, only to find Alexandre already gone.

“Where did that rascal go?” 

“My guess? Backstage. You’re not the only one who thought the performance was breathtaking.” 

Edelgard suppressed the fear that flared up in her chest and hurried after him in a less than dignified manner. 

Ferdinand turned out to be right. She spotted Alexandre’s blob of blond hair easily among the troupe of dancers. As soon as she entered the room, the excited chatter died out and the members of the Mittelfrank Opera Company bowed to their Emperor.

Well, all but one.

“... and the way you moved, that was amazing!” Alexandre prattled on happily to a reluctant Felix, who seemed unsure what to do with the undivided attention. “Can you teach me how to dance like that?”

“Why would a child be interested in dancing?” Felix scoffed, but his small smile was poorly hidden behind his veil.

Alexandre bounced from foot to foot. “It’s like… fighting! But without the blood! And I love your sword, it’s so cool!” 

“You have a good eye. It was made by the greatest blacksmith of the century, Zoltan.” Felix bent down and unsheathed his sword for Alexandre to inspect it up close. “Be careful, one wrong move and you will cut yourself. That’s how well made this blade is,” he chided patiently when Alexandre made grabby hands for the sharp edges.

To prove his words, he picked a flower from the ground and dropped a single petal on top of the sharp edge of the blade. It split in half, much to Alexandre’s delight and Edelgard’s quiet dread. Why had they allowed a very dangerous former-general, former Kingdom noble to dance with a sharpened blade?

Alexandre shared none of her qualms. “That’s amazing!” he exclaimed with glee, and plucked a few more petals from the rose and watch them cut cleanly into two. “How do you keep it so shiny?”

Felix drew himself back up to his full height and performed a few katas with the flair of a deadly waltz. “As a warrior as well as a dancer, a blade is an extension of your body,” he explained, punctuating every word with a sweep of his blade. “Dancing and fighting are no different in that regard. Every movement has to be deliberate and balanced, or else you will be thrown off your feet. And in war, that would mean death.” 

“Uh-huh!” Alexandre nodded with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. 

Felix finished the kata on his knee, placing his sword back in its sheath in one swift movement. He hesitated for an uncharacteristic moment before brusquely unbuckling the scabbard and pushing it into Alexandre’s arms. “Here. You can have it.” 

“I… thank you so much!” Alexandre exclaimed, but then he faltered and pushed the sword back into Felix’s hands. “But… I can’t take this.”

Even from a distance, Edelgard could see Felix roll his eye. “You wanted it so badly just a minute ago. Stop changing your mind.”

“It’s…. it’s great! But Au- I mean Edelgard says I can’t touch weapons until I’m older. Last time I did, I wasn’t allowed to play outside with my dog for two weeks!”

If Edelgard hadn’t been certain that Felix was aware of her presence, she was now. He leveled a glare at her for a full second before turning back to Alexandre. 

“Pathetic,” he spat out and defiantly thrust the sword back into Alexandre’s arms “Take it anyway. In my country, people learn how to swing a sword before they can read.”

Edelgard stepped forward before things could go downhill even further. “That’s quite enough from both of you. Alexandre, thank Felix properly for his gift.” 

Alexandre badly morphed his euphoric smile into a more polite one, and bowed deeply and formally. “Thank you so much, I will treasure this forever.” 

Felix looked mildly uncomfortable. “Eh…. don’t mention it. Ever.” He then turned to Edelgard. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I could ask you the very same question.” 

“I performed,” he replied childishly. Well, two could play that game, and Edelgard had a lot of experience with childish behavior. 

“And you were truly an inspiration to behold. You brought Dorothea’s masterpiece to life, and for that, you have my thanks,” she praised, refusing to join his argument. 

Felix rolled his eye at her praise.

The blatant show of disrespect did not go over Alexandre’s head. He stomped down his foot, and angrily proclaimed: “You shouldn’t roll your eyes at Aunty like that! It’s not nice!”

“Aunty?” His words were whispered but his eyes were ablaze. Edelgard winced.

In retrospect, it was a good thing that Felix had gifted his sword to Alexandre because otherwise, she would probably have it leveled at her throat right now. Felix’s nostrils flared in anger, looking ready to barrel at her with a scream of rage.

“ _Aunty?!?_ ” he repeated again, louder this time.

Alexandre hid behind her, and Edelgard quickly looked around for a way to deescalate the situation before it became bloody.

Luckily, Dorothea chose that exact moment to walk into the backstage area like the savior she was. 

“What’s going on here?” she asked, quickly placing herself between her two friends.

“A conversation that is long overdue,” Edelgard quickly answered before Felix could feed the rumor mill with some ill-placed snide. “One that is perhaps best continued in private. Dorothea, would you please be so kind as to point us to a dressing room of some sort?”

Dorothea met Felix’ eyes for a second, and then nodded. “Right, it's that way. But keep your voices down.”

“Alexandre, stay with Dorothea would you?” He nodded reluctantly, his diligently instilled manners barely winning over his protective instincts.

Edelgard smiled forcefully at Felix. “Lead the way. After all, you did perform today.” 

For a second, she thought he would lunge at her then and there, but it seemed he had more self-respect than that. With his head held high, he marched into the dressing room.

The second Edelgard closed the door behind her, his temper ran free. “You call yourself his _aunt_?” he spat out. His outcry echoed through the small dressing room, and Edelgard sincerely doubted that the thin walls kept any of their secrets. “You decapitated him! You took the boy's birthright and raised him to be some kind of…. cushioned pencil pusher! And you have the nerve, the fucking _audacity_ , to call yourself his aunt?!?” 

She let him rage. Funny how he conveniently seemed to forget his own part in Dimitri's demise.

“Dimitri and I shared a mother,” Edelgard explained calmly when he ran out of insults. “As his close friend, I thought you knew that.”

Felix took a bottle of perfume from the vanity table and smashed it against the wall. “Bullshit! His mother died long ago, around the same time as mine. And I certainly never saw you in the capital.”

“Lady Patricia, the second queen, was my mother. Not that I saw much of her after she married King Lambert, and I returned to the Empire. Nor did I know who Dimitri was to me until our uncle revealed it to me, but that doesn’t make it less true.” She didn’t feel the need to explain that lost summer spent in Fhirdiad to Felix. That memory was hers, and hers alone. 

“There are truly no depths to your depravity, are there? Are you really willing to make up stories to justify yourself now, after everything you’ve done? You disgust me,” he said, looking at the mirror behind her like he was debating whether or not he was going to smash it over her head. 

“Believe what you will. Ask Byleth if you want, but your inability to face the truth doesn’t make it any less so,” she countered fearlessly. 

“Maybe I will!” He refused to meet her eyes, but it was easy to see that despite his words the seed of doubt had taken root. Perhaps that was exactly why he was so eager to change the subject. “While I do that, why don’t you explain why the boy doesn’t know how to hold a sword? How to fight? That’s lunacy, suicide! Are you so desperate to erase the Kingdom from existence that you will deny him the right to defend himself?”

That struck a chord somewhere deep in her, although she tried not to let it show. “When I set out to reshape this world, I certainly did not intend to create a new generation of child soldiers,” she explained with a carefully controlled tone. “I know about your customs. But we are all citizens of Fodlan now. Our country is one in which Alexandre does not need to take up the blade, but gets to be a child. If he chooses to learn how to fight later, that will be his right, but not before he is older.”

“Open your eyes!” he snarled back at her. “He looks just like the Boar! Sooner or later, people are going to connect the dots, and they will come for his head. Or was that your ulterior motive all along, for them to kill him?”

“No!” Edelgard roared back, finally letting her own fears take root. “I am doing everything I can to let him have a happy and safe childhood. Is that really so bad?”

“You can’t be happy when you’re dead. Then you’re just a corpse. Don’t pretend to be naive, I’ve seen what you’re capable of.” 

A traitorous part of Edelgard’s mind reminded her of Lord Arundel’s promise. _Still_ , she thought darkly as she gritted her teeth. She would be damned before giving Felix the satisfaction of being right.

“What _I_ am capable of? Don’t pretend to be innocent! I may have ordered the armies to strike, but it was you who cut down legions of your own countrymen, who joined the empire of your own volition!” 

“You understand nothing about me!” 

“You’re damn right I don’t! Who do you think you are, telling me how I should raise Alexandre? I slave away every single day and night to rebuild this country, and what do you do? Kill people for pay? Swing your sword at the moon until you no longer have to face what you've done? Stop telling me I'm naive when you're being childish!" Edelgard countered and rose to her full height. “Grow up! Get a job, take a bath and for goddess’ sake, write Margrave Gautier back so he will stop plaguing me with questions about your well-being every time we meet!”

That seemed to catch Felix off guard. “Don’t bring Sylvain into this!” Felix sputtered back. “This isn’t about him!’

“No, this is about _you_ , still living in the past. You tell me to open my eyes, but take some of your own damn advice!” Edelgard bit back viciously. “We’re at peace, for better or for worse. There is still good you can do with your blade and your wit to give meaning to the war we fought. If you wish to preserve old traditions, spread them yourself!” 

Before Felix could respond, they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Are you two alright in there?” Dorothea’s angelic voice filtered through the wooden door. “Alexandre is getting tired, Edie. Should I call Hubie to pick him up?”

Edelgard opened the door to find Dorothea holding an exhausted-looking Alexandre staring up at her. Now that the excitement of the performance was gone, it was quite apparent that it was way past his bedtime. 

“No, no. We’re quite done here. Don’t you agree, Felix?”

Felix pushed past her out of the room instead of replying. He stalked towards Alexandre with purpose, his fists clenched. Edelgard's hand shot to the dagger hidden under her dress, ready to strike Felix down should he hurt Alexandre.

He didn't. Instead, he knelt down in front of Alexandre. “Keep the sword,” he said to him. "And don't believe the lies they tell about your father." 

Edelgard’s heart dropped into her shoes with every urgent "Why" that fell from Alexandre's lips. Mercifully, Felix's quota for social interactions of the day had been met, and he stalked off, the silks of his costume sweeping behind him.

She allowed him his dramatic retreat, but vowed to have Hubert track him down later tonight. Felix had always been a spitfire, but she would tolerate no danger to Alexandre. He had turned against his home and allies before. Edelgard did not believe for even one second that he had a shred of loyalty towards her. 

Her uncle said he had people everywhere. Few people could best her in combat, even now. But if anyone in this entire theatre had a shot, it would have been the man stalking away angrily from her right now. 

Dorothea's gentle voice drew her out of her thoughts. "Sorry, what did you say?" Edelgard asked, shaking her head and averting her eyes from the scene. 

“Did I just see that with my own two eyes?” Dorothea wondered out loud. 

There was no right answer to that, so Edelgard merely nodded. "My apologies for the scene. You were.... very lovely tonight." 

"Why, thank you," Dorothea said with a sweeping bow, but her voice betrayed a hint of a darker emotion she couldn't quite place. 

Alexandre tugged her dress. "Why did he say that? Can I really keep the sword?" 

"We can talk about this at home." 

"You always say that," he whined back at her.

"Alexandre, I will not tolerate back talk. These people have worked very hard to perform for us tonight, it would be impolite to ruin their evening further." 

"Truly, your Majesty, it is no issue —” a dancer said, but she cut him off before he could finish.

"No, we don’t want to impose any longer. My apologies Dorothea, it seems we'll have to catch up some other time," Edelgard said sorrowfully. Such a beautiful night, thoroughly ruined. Damn that man into the eternal flames!

"Why don't I call Hubie and Ferdie and let them take Alexandre home? I think I promised you a tour through the opera house last time we spoke." 

There had never been such a promise. "Thank you, Dorothea, but we must-"

Dorothea's pleasant smile never dropped from her face, but her voice turned as cold as ice. "I really think you should see the rest of the opera house. I insist on showing you around personally."

Edelgard swallowed deeply. "Ah... Very well," she conceded. 

It didn't take long at all to summon a guard trustworthy enough to escort her ward to her oldest friend. She knew he would be safe, but letting him out of her sight felt like driving a knife into her own heart. 

Dorothea ushered them back into the dressing room before the rest of her troupe could eavesdrop on their conversation. 

For a moment, they stared at one another. There were so many things unsaid between them that the few steps that separated them felt akin to the distance between herself and Almyra.

"You sang beautifully tonight," Edelgard said awkwardly in an attempt to break the silence.

“... He’s Dimitri’s, isn’t he?”

“Not so loud!” Edelgard whispered heatedly, diving forward to shush Dorothea physically, should she have to. 

Dorothea took her outcry as the affirmation it was. “I didn’t connect the dots until Felix showed such obvious interest in him, but in retrospect, I feel like a fool for not noticing earlier,” she mused sadly, before finally meeting her eyes again. “You could have told me, Edie. Or do you no longer trust me?”

“Always,” Edelgard promised instantly, her hands itching to reach out and close the distance between them. “But you must understand why I sought to keep it a secret. Nobody knows, except for Ferdinand, Hubert and the Professor.” And perhaps her uncle, but that was a nightmare she tried not to think about. 

Dorothea averted her eyes. “And yet you told Felix, who has betrayed people he cared more for in the past.” A dark, dangerous fear that had never been truly gone roared back to life in her stomach. “I’m not saying he will again, but I’m just… _trying_ to follow your line of thought.”

Edelgard swallowed deeply. “I studied the hierarchy of the Kingdom before becoming emperor. The ties between Blaiddyd and Fraldarius are as legendary as they are ancient. Dimitri and Felix knew each other since birth, so lying would only delay the inevitable.” 

“Oh Edie,” Dorothea sighed, and gently grasped her chin until their faces were mere inches from each other. Edelgard’s already-short lifespan felt dangerously close to coming to an end by a heart attack. For a moment, she considered being selfish and leaning in, to find out what would happen if they would cross that line they had always skimmed. 

Before she could make up her mind, Dorothea placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Sometimes you’re so clever, and sometimes you’re… _really_ not,” she whispered against her skin, her voice breaking slightly at the end.

And then she let go and stepped back, the ghost of her kiss still hot on her skin and the specter of her words lodging deep into her heart. Why did it feel like every time they set a step forward, they took two steps back? 

When Dorothea spoke again, her voice was as cheerful as it was fake. “It doesn’t matter. Come, let’s grab a cup of tea. I’ve heard of a lovely parlor in town that opened up a while back.”

Edelgard debated calling her out on the change of subject, but remembered where they were. “We have perfectly good tea in the palace.”

“Come on, Edie! Live a little!” Dorothea winked playfully, and Edelgard could almost forget the hint of tears in the corner of her eyes. “The Empire doesn’t solely rest on your shoulders! It won’t fall apart if you take a small break every now and then.”

“Alright then, after I have ensured that Alexandre has been safely returned to the castle,” she agreed, pretending not to watch Dorothea undress. “How long will you stay this time?”

“Just one more week,” Dorothea answered as she disappeared knowingly behind the dressing screen. “I'm going to Bridgid." 

"I thought the Company would stay and perform in Enbarr for a season?" 

"The Company will, but I won't be performing. I'm taking a short break," she said and threw her dress over the dressing screen. "Petra invited me to spend some time at her court." 

An ugly emotion Edelgard boiled up in her stomach, jealousy gnawing at her insides. "I thought you despised nobility." 

Dorothea's voice was playful. "I have learned that some of them are quite alright. It's a small price to pay for the beautiful beaches that the country is famous for." 

Edelgard did not remind her of the quality and diversity of Fodlan's beaches because she suspected that there was something else at play here.

She was right. "Besides...," Dorothea continued, sounding like she had so often during the war. Tired, full of doubt, resigned. A combination of all three of those things. "I've traveled the entire continent, but I still can't sleep well at night. The war... it's never really over, is it? Not until it's over in my head. So perhaps some rest can bring me peace. Is that selfish?" 

_Is it?_ Edelgard wondered internally. "Of course not," she said out loud. "You've served your country admirably, Dorothea. Nobody can fault you for taking a moment to recover." 

Dorothea sighed deeply, and Edelgard knew she had said the right thing. "I'm so glad to hear that, Edie. You know I care a lot about your opinion, right?" 

Edelgard was grateful her friend could not see her quickly-reddening face. "I am flattered that you hold me in such high esteem." 

"You're a paragon of diligence and ambition, Edie. And a surprisingly good mother, too. Is it truly that strange that I admire you?" 

"I am not his mother," Edelgard countered instinctively. Her mind ran circles around the word 'admire'. Dorothea _admired_ her. What a strange, fascinating word. To admire. Admired _. Her!_

Dorothea seemed entirely unaware of Edelgard's internal linguistic epiphany. "Of course you aren't, silly me." Edelgard was no expert on reading between the lines, but Dorothea's sarcasm wasn't hard to discern. "Still, I think it is adorable how he calls you aunty." 

For a moment, Edelgard considered baring her complicated and bloody family history to Dorothea to explain exactly why she couldn't be his mother. Dimitri had hated her, and he hadn't been entirely unjustified. 

But Dorothea _admired_ her.

She decided against it. Dorothea had just confessed that she was haunted by war and politics. It would be unkind and selfish to drag her into the graveyard of her past, to burden her even further. 

A change of subject, then. “How did you get Felix to perform with you in the first place?” she asked awkwardly. 

Dorothea peeked her head from behind the dressing screen, revealing a hint of naked skin and a grin that was downright evil. “Oh, a little bit of friendly rivalry. He can be quite reasonable once you know how to press his buttons."

Edelgard sighed and sat down next to the vanity table, looking at the shattered remains of the perfume bottle Felix had thrown against the wall. "Reasonable is not how I would describe him." 

"I always pretend I never quite forgave him for beating me in the White Heron Cup a decade ago, and Felix is always willing to prove his superiority. His competitive nature is easily his downfall once you know how to play it in your favor,” she explained with a giggle. 

That sounded like Felix alright. "Never change, Dorothea." 

Dorothea's laugh was kind and clear, and they spoke no more of him. Their night together was short, but it was pleasant. Dorothea outfitted Edelgard with a ridiculous wig that hid her identity in public surprisingly well, but neglected to conceal her own identity. In between hordes of Dorothea’s adoring fans, they spoke about old friends and new dreams. 

That night, after she had ensured that Alexandre was safely asleep in his own bed, she dreamed of Dorothea's beautifully painted lips leaving red stains in indecent places. 

* * *

Harpstring Moon, 1191

* * *

Edelgard woke before her dream could escalate further, breathless and feeling bereft of something that was never hers to claim. 

Everything ends eventually, she reminded herself. It was an old mantra she used to chant with her siblings during their horrific imprisonment. One by one, they disappeared or died, until only she remained to remembered their song. 

On the first day of the new moon, the final part of the celebrations took place: the remembrance of the dead. It was only fitting that she awoke with the memory of her lost siblings in mind, her dream’s elation quickly leaving her body. Daylight had barely touched the land outside her window, but she knew better than to try and sleep more.

Instead, she tried to calm her breathing and listened to the world around her. The palace was always abuzz. Servants, diplomats and knights alike worked until the edge of dawn to keep the place safe and sound. Edelgard had grown up in these halls and knew the way the stairs behind her bedroom wall creaked at night, the clang of metal boots of patrolling knights against the marble floor. 

This morning, there was only silence.

Something was amiss, she realized with dreadful clarity. Something was _terribly_ wrong.

The last time any room between these walls had been _this_ silent was the night before her uncle had stolen her and her mother to the Kingdom. 

Edelgard felt her stomach roil and her hands starting to shake. She threw all sense of decorum to the wind, grabbed the dagger from under her pillow, and ran out the bedroom. There were no maids or guards to see their emperor dressed in a white nightgown. Her private living room was empty and her study seemed untouched. Not an attempt at her life or theft, then. No, that would have been too easy. If people truly wanted her dead, they would have had plenty of opportunities to do so in the past month while she was out with — 

A chill shot up her spine as it suddenly dawned upon her. _Alexandre_. Of course. Her uncle didn’t make empty threats, she had the scars to prove it. 

Edelgard cursed is name and started running towards Alexandre’s room, her heart beating heavy in her chest. “Don’t let me be too late to save him! Goddess, please. Not him, anyone but him!”

A high, muffled scream that could only belong to one person rang from the other side of the door. Edelgard wasted no time, possessed by a primal urge to sling her body between anything that could harm Alexandre without a second thought, ready to end her uncle with her bare hands if that’s what it took to protect him. 

But it wasn’t her uncle who held a blade against Alexandre’s jugular or pressed a pillowcase over his mouth. It was one of her own maids, pale and scarred. It was Clarice.

“Don’t come any closer!” Clarice cried out, her eyes wide and frantic. Alexandre’s muffled cries turned desperate when he saw her, and he tried to wiggle free.It only made Clarice press the blade harder against his neck until blood started to spill onto it. “If you move, I will kill him!” 

Edelgard saw red, but stayed her hand. “Think very carefully about whether you wish to raise your blade against Alexandre… or if you will offer it to me in fealty. Because if you spill another single drop of his blood, I will not hesitate to use the full extent of my power to crush you.” 

Clarice laughed, her desperate smile wrinkling her burn scars into a truly horrifying sight. “Like you crushed my father? My brother? My entire village? MY KINGDOM?”

“I’m… afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Your armies burned my village to the ground when we wouldn’t submit to the Empire! Beheaded my father and brother for refusing to bow to you! You slaughtered my king and made us all wear the Empire’s colors, and told us to forget our past.” Clarice pressed the sharp edge harder against Alexandre's neck. His scream harrowed through Edelgard's bones. “I don’t care about my life anymore. I’ve been dead for a long time. I have nothing left to lose because you took everything from me!” 

“I won’t apologize or make excuses for what I’ve done or what was done in my name. That would be an insult to both your father and brother,” Edelgard said slowly and lowered her dagger. “But I won't deny your right to despise me or to wish to kill me. _Me_ , not the boy. He is innocent. So lift your blade from his neck, and I will and I’ll grant you a fair duel.” 

“My father was innocent! My brother was innocent! But your men killed them all the same! Where was their fair duel?” Clarice screamed back, her eyes feverish. She took the blade from Alexandre's neck, preparing to strike him through the heart. “No… I want you to know suffering like I have all these years. To lose everything you love, to live only to be tormented day and night. Only then will the dead know peace.” 

Edelgard lunged forward. “Clarice, no!” She cried, but no matter how many years she had trained nor how many crests flowed through her veins, there was no world in which she could have intercepted the dagger unless she was standing right behind her.

But Felix had always been faster than her. Like a shadow in the night, he appeared from outside the window and dove into the fray. The blade cut his shoulder through his armor, but with a savage cry he managed to wrestle Alexandre out of her grip.

"End her, woman!" he bellowed while narrowly avoiding another slice.

He needn't have said that. All the anguish and fear of the past month powered Edelgard’s steps forward, and with one savage blow, she stabbed Clarice through the chest.

The former Kingdom girl went down screaming and laughing maniacally until Edelgard sliced her throat as well. Blood splattered on her white nightgown and hair, her hands caked with yet another life lost in the name of her dream.

Alexandre looked horrified when she turned to him, and Edelgard hesitated. “Are you okay?” she asked gently and reached her hand out to him.

That was all it took. He barrelled forward into her arms, crying hysterically. "Mamaaaa!" 

She held him tighter, having come too close to losing him to correct him now. “You’re alright. You’re safe. Shhh… I have you now,” Edelgard cooed into his ear, stroking his blonde hair until it was as bloody as her own. 

"I w-was so scared!" he bawled into her chest, his small fists holding on to her like his life depended on it.

"Me too,” she whispered back, willing her frantic heart to calm down. But like Alexandre, it wouldn't listen. She looked around for something that might help, and realized she was still holding the bloody dagger.

Dimitri's dagger. The significance was not lost on her. 

Gently, she detangled herself from Alexandre, fell to her knees in front of him and looked him straight in the eye. “I swear upon this blade that nobody will hurt you like that again. I won’t break that oath until my dying breath, believe me,” she vowed solemnly and offered the bloody weapon to him.

Alexandre's eyes shifted to Felix, who nodded once. Alexandre then nodded bravely to her and took the dagger with trembling hands. "I believe you." 

Edelgard kissed his forehead and examined the wound on his neck. Thankfully, it was shallow and hadn’t hit an artery, so he was not in danger of losing his life. “Let’s get you cleaned up now. You can stay with me tonight. You don’t have to be alone.”

Alexandre clung to her, so she had no choice but to pick him up and carry him. It was a testament to how rattled he was that he let her do so without complaint. 

“Felix,” she said without looking at him. 

For once, he didn't argue with her and did as she ordered. Felix led the way to the infirmary with his sword raised, his lone healthy eyes darting through the dark, ready to strike at anyone who would seek to harm them. Save for Hubert, she couldn't have wished for a more vigilant protector.

They encountered no one.The halls were empty until they reached their destination. The healer on duty let out a scream of shock when she saw them, but got to work as soon as she saw Alexandre. 

Alexandre was treated while seated on Edelgard’s lap, refusing to let go of her. She didn't even have the mind to scold him for his clinginess, equally unwilling to let go. 

To her surprise, Felix stayed and watched while the healer tended to Alexandre's wounds. He even stayed until after had fallen asleep against her chest from the calming draught.

As soon as the healer excused herself, she met his eyes. "Not that I'm not grateful, but what were you doing there outside his room?" 

Felix refused to look at her. "I was just... keeping an eye on him. I fell asleep on the roof. His cry woke me up." He looked as haggard as she probably did. The blood from his shoulder wound steadily stained his blue tunic red, and there was a different glint of madness than usual in his eye. 

Vaguely, Edelgard remembered the way Felix had always watched Dimitri during their academy days. He had that same look in his eyes right now, a mix between longing and distaste.

She decided to let it go. “I'm thankful, then. We’ve never seen eye-to-eye, and we probably never will. But if you hadn’t rushed in when you did… I don’t want to think about that right now.” 

“I don’t want him dead because of our differences or who his father is,” he said defensively. “My point still stands. He should have been able to defend himself.” 

“You’re right,” Edelgard admitted brokenly, stroking Alexandre's hair with trembling fingers. “I… I just wanted him to grow up without blood on his hands. A nice childhood, unblemished and uninterrupted. But instead, it almost killed him. _Goddess preserve me,_ I almost got him killed and he wouldn’t even have known how much I...” Loved him. Cared for him. A thousand other emotions that threatened to consume her whole after being denied for so long.

A single tear spilled from her eyes into Alexandre's hair. _He was alive,_ she reminded herself. _They were on time._ But the image of her brother's corpse wearing Alexandre's face kept looming in her mind no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. 

“Stop wallowing in things that never happened. He’s alive and safe,” Felix said heartlessly.

“Stop pretending you’re unaffected, for fuck’s sake!" Edelgard snapped back. Felix's eyes widened. "You’re always so quick to judge. Do you think it has been easy raising him? Because it hasn’t! I was never meant to be a mother!” And there it was, out in the open, the truth laid bare. 

Edelgard slumped forward, all adrenaline gone from her body. She was never meant to be a mother, but sometimes you didn’t have a choice. You simply were. Goddess, she had been a fool.

“Maybe that is true,” he agreed without a single shred of mercy. Yet his voice was soft and surprisingly kind as if he were speaking to a child. To Alexandre. “But at least you’re trying,” he conceded. 

Edelgard raised her head to meet his gaze. “Not hard enough, apparently.”

“Then try harder,” he challenged her coldly, but his eyes told a different story. “I….” Felix cut himself off, looking as forlorn she had only seen him right after he and Sylvain had burned Dimitri’s corpse. His lone, healthy eye met hers momentarily and she was surprised to find the same emotion there that haunted herself.

Fear. Regrets. Anger at the world but mostly themselves. They were like fire and ice, and probably never would get along even if they tried. But in that moment, they weren’t so different. They wanted the same thing, after all.

Heh. Perhaps Dorothea had been right all along.

“And you?” she asked him.

Felix turned away from her. “Perhaps.... It’s time for me to stop waiting for the forgiveness of a corpse,” he said softly, his hand clenched into a bloody fist, his voice heavy with regret and resolve. “Tomorrow, I’ll start training him with the sword. Make sure he is ready by daybreak.”

Before she could question him, he hurried off into the shadowy hallways. Edelgard let him. Alexandre moaned for his mother in his sleep, and Edelgard held him through his nightmares. This one time, she would take Felix’s advice, and keep trying. 

* * *

Garland Moon, 1191

* * *

Edelgard leafed through the pages of Hubert's report one last time. "So you're certain the assassin wasn't in league with our former allies at all?" 

Hubert nodded. "The investigation does point towards that conclusion. Her backstory checks out, although it is unclear how she managed to find work in the palace in the first place. Or how the guard roster had been arranged in such a way that nobody was guarding Alexandre at the time of the plot. If Lord Arundel played any role in this ploy at all, it would have been there," he said, speaking her uncle’s name as if it left a sour taste on his tongue. "Whether his lack of involvement is a good thing or not, I will leave up to you, Lady Edelgard. We hardly need more enemies." 

"They're not our enemies. They're our subjects, misguided or not," Edelgard disagreed decisively, and put down the report. "And I have wronged them in the past. It will take many more years of peace before those who suffered the worst will be able to accept the Empire, if ever. Until then, we'll just have to keep proving them wrong." 

"Well-spoken! And how fortunate that our esteemed archbishop already had a plan to build bridges between the borders of our cultures!" Ferdinand exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Hubert snorted derisively. " _Fortunate_ isn't the word I would choose." Edelgard knew the word he would pick was suspicious because that was always his first instinct. 

She watched the two of them bicker back and forth. Years ago, she would probably have mistaken their arguments as genuine quarrels, but recently she had begun to notice the way their feet would brush under the table far more often than could be called accidental. She smiled, if only slightly. 

"Thank you for your work as always, Hubert," she interrupted before their squabble could turn vicious.

"It is my pleasure," Hubert said with a generous bow. "However, in the light of this recent threat, I would suggest hiring a few extra eyes around the castle." 

Edelgard nodded. "I'm sure you have a few candidates in mind, then?" 

"I will have a list of recommendations drafted by the morrow." 

"See that you do. Until then, Alexandre is in safe hands." 

Edelgard looked outside of the window of her study to the training ground below, or more specifically, at the class of young children fighting each other with wooden swords. The forms they practiced didn't originate from Adrestia, nor were the blue tunics they wore. 

Edelgard shook her head. Adrestia was gone as much as Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance were. The people would only heal if all three former nations and cultures were allowed to weave an equal part of the tapestry that was the United Empire of Fodlan. If she expected her subjects to let go of the past, than she would have to lead by example. Only that way, they could create a safe and secure society for everyone. 

Edelgard knew better than to believe they would ever succeed until Those Who Slither In The Dark were finally defeated. Until then, she would celebrate every little victory she could and let them carry her through the darker days. 

Today was not such a day. Outside, Alexandre looked as giddy while swinging a wooden practice sword as he had been when she had first gifted him his dog. His instructor, dressed in a pristine, albeit asymmetrical Kingdom-style armor, scolded him for his impatience. Alexandre apologized with a smile and tried again with more focus. He flourished under Felix's tutelage. It shouldn't have been a revelation, but she knew from the carefully schooled look on Felix's face that it was as much to him as it was to her.

She would never understand Felix, nor he her. But that didn’t matter because Alexandre seemed to understand the both of them just fine.

"I'm proud of you, Edelgard. I know that opening up has never been easy for you." Ferdinand interrupted her thoughts, causing her to turn back to him. Ah yes, there was another reason why she had called upon him today other than his morning report.

He handed her a large envelope, sealed with the sigil of the Court of Fodlan.

She opened it, and gently took the papers out. Strange how a few pages could change your entire life. "Now, where do I sign?”

"Here, and here, and here," Ferdinand pointed out. Edelgard sighed and did as he said. It took less than a minute and when she was done, it felt anticlimactic. She handed the papers back to him. "Now all that's left is for young Alexandre to sign here, and it will be official." 

"I'll talk to him about it tonight after he has finished his training. He might not agree with it," Edelgard reminded him.

Ferdinand's laughter was as kind as it was loud. "Shall we make it into a competition then, like old times? I bet that before the sun has set, we will be welcoming a newly adopted Alexandre von Hresvelg into the imperial family." 

Hubert was less enthusiastic, but that was nothing new. "The boy would be wise to decline. He won't just be adopted by you. He will be the Crown Prince to the throne of Fodlan. I hardly think sentimentalities should warrant the target that title paints on his back." 

"There will always be threats against him. All we can do is prepare him for it the best we can." She had learned that the hard way after all. "For now, I can only ask you to put your faith in him as you have put it in me. He will astound you." _As he has me,_ she added to herself.

Hubert nodded, but she knew him too well to miss the skepticism in his eyes. He wasn't wrong, of course. But he had never been a parent, either.

"I think there is something poetic to it," Ferdinand mused out loud. "One way or another, Alexandre was always destined for a crown." 

Edelgard looked at him, swinging a sword and laughing with his classmates, his blonde hair reflecting sunlight like a jewel, and couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly. 

  
  


**_The End of Part II_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're halfway through this story! In my original nano draft, this chapter ended with Edelgard cradling Alex and implying that she was going to stop keeping him at an arms distance, but then I got a comment that opened my mind and realize that if the kid decides you're his mother-figure, you step up. So she will always be his aunty, but Edelgard does exactly that. She's not the only one who steps up and takes an active interest in raising Alexandre from now on, and in the next part a final key player will be introduced who has some wisdom to impart. 
> 
> There was a lot of worldbuilding going on in this chapter in particular. Many of you have remarked that you liked this story because I don't view Post-Crimson Flower Fodlan as a perfect society. That's true, I don't. You can conquer lands in mere months, but it takes years to unite a nation in the hearts of the people, where it really matters. Otherwise borders are just lines drawn in the sand. The realization that every part of that nation and culture is equally valid and should be given a chance to flower is fundamental in Edelgard's character development, among a few other realizations left and right that you surely haven't missed.
> 
> This chapter has a ton of tiny references to both three houses as well as other historical and fictional pieces of literature. Kudos to whomever can figure out even half of them. I added the tag 'unreliable narrator' to the fic, because this fic is entirely written from Edelgard's POV and boy does she makes some leaps in judgement or miss important details many of you did not. :D I like to write fiction that makes people think twice, so I'm glad so many people did.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It was a hard one to write, and it got out of hand as usual. Part III deals with Those Who Slither In The Dark and Edelgard's mostly unadressed mental state, and can be expected in the first week of March after I finish playing the new DLC. Take care of yourself, and don't forget: you can also find me on[ tumblr](https://ingrimasname.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/ingrimasname) nowadays. Please talk to me, I have a lot of feelings about this game...
> 
> (Did I need to make Edelgard and Dorothea pine this hard for the plot? No. But I'm hot for Dorothea so some of that gay thirst just transferred to Edelgard. What can I say, Dorothea is the best.)


	4. Red Petals Dance in the Warm Summer Breeze (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been more than ten years since the battle of Fhirdiad, but the final battle is just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Abby, Ari and this time also Haley for beta'ing and lore checking. I couldn't have done it without you.

* * *

Blue Sea moon, 1196

* * *

There were few things Edelgard and Felix agreed upon when it came to raising Alexandre, but the one place where they could always find common ground was at the training grounds.

“ _Parry_ , Alexandre!” she shouted from the sidelines as Alexandre tried and failed to dodge a particularly nasty swipe from Felix’s training sword. “Stop reacting and start acting!” 

Alexandre growled in response and charged towards his teacher, who easily used his momentum against him and floored him. 

“Is that all you got?” Felix taunted him while he pulled his student back up to his feet. “You need to strike me with the intent to kill, not just to lash out. You’re a child, not an animal.” 

Edelgard could hear the wood of Alexandre’s lance crack ominously. “I’m not a _child_!” He yelled back, but the effect was lost when his voice broke halfway through his statement. 

Next to her, Byleth let out a small chuckle. Even from their position at the sidelines, Edelgard could swear she saw Felix’s usual stern mouth twitch up ever so slightly, too. They were all growing soft with age.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Sure, you’re not.” 

“I’m almost taller than you!” Alexandre squeaked back and charged at his instructor with reckless abandon. Felix had him on the ground again before he even came close to landing a hit. 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed with how much time you’re spending on the ground. Perhaps if you’d start fighting instead of eating grass, you’d actually be able to hit me sometime this decade.”

Edelgard watched their bickering with a small smile. Felix had kept his word. Other than a few short absences that too often coincided with visits from former Kingdom nobles, he had fully taken on the role of Alexandre’s instructor with the same dedication with which he took up everything else that mattered to him. His hair was longer and cleaner, and his damaged eye had scarred in a way that wasn’t horrifying to look at. Sometimes, he smiled when he thought nobody was looking, but other than that he remained the same as he had always been, immune to the passage of time and grumpy about approximately everything.

Edelgard didn't spend much time looking at her own reflection, but she knew the same could not be said for her. Her two crests had aged her, drawn wrinkles on her face and made her bones heavy. Some mornings, the very act of getting out of bed seemed too great of a task. Her thirty-fourth birthday had come and gone last month, and although the small celebration had been lovely, it did make her wonder exactly how many more birthdays she would live to see, if any at all. 

Thirty-four years old. It had seemed so old when she was a child, so far away. How quickly the years had passed! There was still so much to be done. 

Edelgard didn’t realize she had clenched her fists until Byleth gently took them into her own hands. “What’s on your mind, El?” she asked almost maternally, despite the fact that between the two of them, Edelgard looked at least a decade older.

“Nothing to worry about, my teacher.” 

Byleth patted her hand one last time before retracting her own. “If you’re certain.” 

Edelgard quickly changed the subject. “Alexandre has grown up well. It seems only yesterday that he was a little baby hiding in my skirts.” 

Like the blink of an eye, the little clingy child had grown to be her height. She watched him finally successfully parry one of Felix’s attacks, to his great joy. Edelgard clapped and cheered him on from the sidelines, watching him like a hawk. After she had named him her heir more than five years ago, Alexandre had been overwhelmed with all the duties that were expected from him, but with the help of her old classmates, he had come a long way. Ferdinand taught him literature and legalism every Tuesday afternoon, and often took him with him to diplomatic meetings. Lysithea had tried to teach him some magic, but after several failed attempts, they had settled for a few minor healing spells. 

Edelgard met Felix’s eyes for a split second. He had kept his word, and so had she. She often took Alexandre to the barracks and taught him how a battalion functioned. She showed him battle formations, taught him history and geography, and had him sit next to her while she passed her judgment on any matter that could not be solved in court. Sometimes they painted together, although Alexandre had more talent for snapping his brushes than creating landscapes. 

The combined efforts of his many teachers were not in vain, and Alexandre thrived. His green eyes were alive with joy, and every day, his keen sense of justice shone brighter. He would be a great emperor one day, she thought as she traced a liver spot that had recently appeared on her wrist. That day would possibly come sooner than either of them would want. 

Byleth’s voice cut her reverie. “He has grown indeed. Have you considered sending him to Garreg Mach in a few years?” 

“Perhaps. If he still wants to, once he comes of age,” Edelgard answered neutrally. Her own opinion on the matter was no secret between them, but over time, she had become better at swallowing it in favor of listening. It wasn’t always easy. “He still has these foolish notions of becoming a knight someday. As if he isn’t the Imperial Prince of United Fodlan.” 

“Perhaps he can be both an emperor and a knight.” 

“Perhaps,” Edelgard conceded. “Not if Felix has any say in the matter, though.” 

“Then perhaps it is a good thing he doesn’t. The two of you need to let him decide his own destiny, unbothered by the expectations by his birth or status. Wasn’t that the entire point of your war?” Byleth asked her, as if they hadn’t discussed this at length the past decade. 

Edelgard forced a hard smile on her face. “How kind of you to remind me.”

The slight scorn seemed to either go completely over Byleth’s head or was completely ignored. “You’re welcome. You keep saying you have no regrets —”

“Which I don’t,” Edelgard cut in.

Byleth continued as if she had never been interrupted in the first place. “Then why haven’t you talked to Alexandre yet? He is growing up so fast, there might come a time when he will no longer be willing to listen to you.” 

“He’s twelve years old, he’s hardly old enough for _that_ discussion,” Edelgard scoffed, kicking the heels of her shoes into the soft ground. 

Byleth pressed on relentlessly, as always. “For now, you might be right. It would be cruel to burden him. But that excuse will not hold up much longer. He _has_ been asking me questions about the war, and our roles in it. Even about his birth parents, once or twice.” 

That surprised Edelgard. “He hasn’t asked me about them in a long time,” she said slowly, letting her eyes wander over her adopted son. She didn’t think about his father often - actively tried not to, for that matter - but it was becoming harder and harder with every passing day. The resemblance was uncanny, save for his bright green eyes. Perhaps she could convince him to grow his hair out, or dye it? That was a natural thing for a teenager to do, right? It might throw people off his trail for a few more years. 

She pulled one of her own stray colorless strands of hair back into its place and changed her mind. No, his hair was fine as it was. Besides, it was a juvenile thing to do, hardly becoming for a child with his duties. He might come to regret it, or no longer recognize himself in the mirror. 

Byleth mistook the contemplative look in her eyes for something else. “I think he doesn’t want to disrespect or hurt you. He’s a sweet boy, considerate and polite. He'll grow up into a fine man.” 

“That he is,” Edelgard immediately agreed, feeling pride and joy swell within her, overshadowing her darker thoughts. “Is it truly so bad that I want to keep him safe from the past for a bit longer? To remain unspoiled by all the blood on our hands?” 

Byleth sighed deeply and shook her head. She seemed ancient far beyond her years for a moment. “If those truly are your intentions, then no. But be honest with yourself, if not to him. Are you trying to spare his feelings or your own?” 

Edelgard opened her mouth to answer, but couldn’t find the words. Her own feelings hadn’t mattered to her in a long time, sacrificed along with any personal desire or ambition, all for the sake of the empire. Of course, this was for his sake. Right?

_Right?_

Before she could find the right words to say, Alexandre appeared right in front of her, smiling down at her curiously. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked them breathlessly.

Edelgard shook her head and smiled at him. It took no effort these days. “Just some old friends catching up, don’t worry about it, Alexandre,” she dismissed him kindly and patted the ground right beside her. To her secret regret, he had declared a few years ago that he was too old to sit on her lap. “Are you finished for the day?” 

Alexandre rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “No Aunty, I…. I broke my lance.” 

He held up two ends of an iron lance, snapped in two. Ah, so she _hadn’t_ imagined a flash of light a few moments ago. Another can of worms she wished would remain closed for just a little bit longer. 

“ _Again_?” she exclaimed sternly, and Alexandre looked away, slightly ashamed. “That’s the fourth one this month already, is it not? Perhaps a spear is not the right weapon for you. Have you reconsidered the axe? I could make some time for you tonight, if you want a quick rundown on the basics.” 

Behind him, Felix scoffed and rolled his eyes. Edelgard shot him a dirty look that thankfully went over Alexandre’s head.

“No, I will master this! I just need a sturdier lance, that’s all!” he declared passionately, waving the two pieces of his lance in the air to emphasize his point. 

“Have you tried a forged training lance? They have a very high durability,” Byleth piped in before Felix could. 

The summer sun was high in the sky, and for the two decades Edelgard had known her former teacher, she had rarely seen her wear anything that covered more than half her body. And yet, she always seemed to carry the entire army’s convoy in the back pocket of her short pants. From seemingly out of nowhere, she procured a lance that was taller than her, which definitely should not have fit in the pockets of her hotpants. “Here, have one of mine.”

Alexandre took the forged training lance gently and squeezed it a few times. Edelgard had seen Dimitri crush a man’s skull between his fingers on more than one occasion. This lance would also undoubtedly break in time, but for now, it held to the power of the Blaiddyd bloodline.

“Thank you so much, Professor Byleth!” He bowed deeply and then ran back to his teacher. “Felix! I got a new one!” 

Felix said something sarcastic back to him, but Edelgard tuned them out. 

“I have always wondered, where do you keep all those weapons?” 

Byleth shrugged. “Magic.” 

It was always hard to tell whether or not she was serious or not. If she spoke the truth, neither Edelgard nor Hubert had ever heard of any spell like that, despite extensive research. 

Edelgard waited for another answer, but it quickly became apparent that she wasn’t going to get one. She inched back underneath the shade of her parasol. One of the less unfortunate side effects of her second crest was that the summer sun burned her easily and mercilessly if she didn’t stay in the shade. 

“Well, I'm not here to convince you to open up to those who are close to you. I've come with a special delivery,” Byleth said and pulled something else from her tiny pocket. 

"What could be so important that you traveled all the way to Enbarr to deliver it? Don't you have people for that?"

“I've always had a knack for delivering the right resources to the right people, and some things should not be left in the hands of strangers. Especially not a marriage proposal.” 

It was like thunder in a cloudless sky, and Edelgard nearly bit her own tongue in surprise. _“What?”_

Byleth, as per usual, seemed unaffected by her outburst. “Not from me, but from a foreign royal. As a matter of fact, he asked me to deliver this to you in person.”

“You know that I’m not open for marriage,” Edelgard hissed, and an undeniable blush appeared high on her cheeks. "You - you _know_ that, so why are we having this conversation? I have Alexandre, who is as good an heir as anyone. Any children of mine would only complicate his succession.” 

Byleth looked her in the eye. The fire that Edelgard had admired during their schooldays reignited the dullness that had clouded her teacher's eyes. Edelgard was ashamed for not noticing sooner.

“You might want to read this one anyway,” Byleth said slowly, and handed her the paper. “It’s from an old friend, after all.” 

Wordlessly, Edelgard did as commanded and skimmed through the letter. As far as marriage proposals came, this was a rather bland one. There was no poetry, no bargaining, or bribing. Just a simple invitation to discuss a union of states and leaders, set at Fodlan’s Locket two weeks from now. What set it apart from the many other offers for arranged marriages was the name signed underneath: Khalid al Almyra.

Edelgard blinked twice when she read the signature to ensure that her eyes were not deceiving her. “The King of Almyra? I have never met him before, and now he proposes marriage?” she wondered out loud. “What’s behind all this? And why would he ask you to deliver this?” 

Byleth’s amused smirk promised nothing but trouble. “I know you usually don’t meet your suitors, but you might want to give this guy a shot. See what he has to say. I heard from a reliable source that he recently chanced upon several great locations for a honeymoon.” 

Location for a honeymoon? Why would that matter - unless… “You don’t mean….” 

“We finally found it,” Byleth whispered triumphantly, her eyes shining bright in the light of the sun. “Or rather, all of them. It’s time to dust off our armor and call upon all of our allies. It’s time to end the war, Edelgard. Finally.” 

“Finally,” Edelgard echoed, feeling anticipation come alive into her body, stoking the fires within her that had been kept dormant for many years. For over a decade, she had allowed Those Who Slither in the Dark to run free and believe they had succeeded in controlling her. Biding her time had been downright excruciating. Now, at long last, it was time to take the battle into their domain and burn this final blemish from the earth. Only then would Fodlan know peace, and she would be able to rest in peace.

She had often dreamed of day she would make her uncle's decapitated head roll at to the ground with one decisive cut of her axe, while the entirety of Enbarr called out his crimes. Edelgard did not enjoy her frequent dreams of blood and violence, but these had been one of the few dreams that energized her, fueled the long game of chess against her former allies. But now that the moment had finally arrived, it didn't feel anything like that.

Her gaze flickered to Alexandre, to the sunlight reflected upon his bronzed skin, the smile on his face. And just like that, she didn’t feel so invincible anymore. “If we survive this…” 

“ _When_ we win,” Byleth corrected, with a tone as if they were teacher and student once again and the eve of the final battle of their lives wasn’t dawning upon them. 

Edelgard looked up at the cloudless sky above her, the trees waving in the gentle breeze. She listened to the sound of metal hitting metal, and felt the quiet joy of sitting and watching the little things in life with those who mattered most. A longing to sketch ignited within her, an overpowering desire to capture this fleeting moment and turn it into something permanent. She had tried many times, but every time she put her brush to the paper, she could never quite capture how she felt right now.

It made her feel so very mortal, and so very small. Edelgard did not like that feeling. “For this victory, I am willing to give my life,” she echoed her younger self. She had felt so sure back then. Either because she had less to lose, or because loss was never an option in her eighteen-year-old mind. It had surely felt that way, despite the weight of an entire nation resting on her shoulders. “But if I survive this, when all of this is finally over, I will speak to him about the past.”

Byleth nodded gravely, and patted her shoulder gently. If they had been less distant people by nature, Edelgard imagined that they might have hugged each other now, but the simple gesture was enough.

“And Dorothea?” Byleth asked seriously. “Will you finally open up to her too?” 

Edelgard narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what she has to do with any of this,” she said, unable to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Besides, she has happily settled in Brigid for years, if I am to believe her letters.”

Byleth had the audacity to smile. “Consider my words, please. That’s all I’m asking.” 

“Very well,” Edelgard promised with no intention to keep it. 

  
  


-

The summer sun set late in the evening, bathing her armory in its dying light and covering her weapons in a blood-red glow. It was only fitting, Edelgard supposed, either as an omen, or as a promise for what was to come.

Edelgard paused for a second in front of her old Flame Emperor armor, perched like it belonged in a museum. Her emperor armor was equally well-maintained and decorated with symbols of an empire from the past. Although it would be wasteful to have new armor made when both of these still fit her, the very thought of wearing these relics felt wrong. 

Edelgard forced her heart to grow cold. She didn't come here to ruminate. She had a job to do.

She walked until she reached the true reason for her visit to her own personal museum. This part of the armory was not open to visitors, and the weapons kept here were locked behind priceless vaults of agarthium. 

Edelgard had meant to destroy these weapons after the war had ended. She had seen firsthand what they could do in the wrong hands, and they were a testament to the power of the old regime. But Aymr had served her well during the war, and in the end, she had decided to lock away it rather than destroy it. One never knew when they needed a weapon of such power, especially with her enemies.

It was the smart thing to do, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. With a heavy feeling in her heart, she undid the magic bindings on one vault. The door opened with an ominous creak. 

Edelgard hadn’t seen the axe that had been her constant companion during the war in over a decade, but somehow, it looked to be in a better state than it had been before she locked it away. When she reached out and touched the handle, the crest stone in the middle started darting around aimlessly. Only a second after that, it sent a powerful energy pulse through her body. Adrenaline surged through her bloodstream and the vision of a raging, all-consuming storm fresh on her mind.

A wave of primal anger welled up within her, roared to be felt after being kept deep within her for so long. It told her to seek out the injustices of the world and reduce them to cinders. The power flowed through her bones, resonated within her blood like a pulse, and the voices screamed for fire and burning flesh, to take as had been taken from her, to _destroy_ -

Edelgard dropped the axe immediately, panting loudly. She counted her breaths until her heart no longer thundered in her chest. Then she carefully put Aymr back into the vault. 

She would retrieve it when the time was right, or perhaps not at all. And after the war was done... Edelgard looked at the six other vaults. She would find a way to destroy these weapons, too.

That night she dreamed of conquest and fate, blood-soaked visions that felt like memories to her. She woke several times, gasping for air. The blood in her veins continued to itch until noon, but the images of fire stayed with her. 

The storm, the fire, the determination. Deep down, she knew that Aymr did not give birth to them. It only brought out the worst in her blackened heart, scorched by flames of force she could never truly run from and weaponized it. But for the sake of the future, she had made peace with that, right?

The next night, it weren't the phantom pains that kept her up, but that question. That damned seed of doubt, that had been growing like a weed within her body, choking her lungs and stealing her resolve.

She tried to crush it, but all attempts failed. After three sleepless nights, she gave up. Instead, illuminated by the light of early dawn, she drafted up a document that was long overdue. 

-

  
  


That morning, Edelgard chanced upon an unusual sight. The door of the Minister of the Imperial Household’s office was slightly ajar, which was so unlike Hubert that Edelgard feared the very worse. 

She could hear voices coming from the room, both very familiar. Edelgard quietly walked towards the door and peeked inside.

Her worry turned out to be unfounded. The curtains were slightly drawn, painting Hubert in a sinister light as he paced around the room, a glistening dagger in his hand. 

“... keep your knees squared, and eyes to the front. Never look at your target before striking, or you risk giving away your intentions,” he said, and then made a lightning-fast strike with his dagger in the air.

Alexandre tried to copy his movements, but only managed half the speed and perhaps a quarter of the accuracy. “But how will I know where to hit if I don’t look?” 

Hubert scoffed with a fond smile on his face that nobody but herself would recognize. “Practise makes perfect. Now, aim for the kidneys. You _do_ remember where they are, or must I instruct you in anatomy too?” 

“Puh-lease Uncle Hubie.” Alexandre rolled his eyes and pointed the tip of his dagger at Hubert. “ _Renes, cor, trachea_ ,” he said cheekily before lowering his dagger. “ _Testes_.” 

Hubert smacked his head softly, but then ruffled Alexandre's hair until his golden locks were hanging in his face messily. Edelgard gulped at the familiar sight.

“Perhaps stray dogs _can_ be taught new tricks,” Hubert praised while correcting Alexandre’s posture. “Now, look me in the eye and strike that potted plant when it would least expect it.” 

“Right!” 

Edelgard watched them circle the room with ramrod-straight backs, making pleasant conversation until Alexandre fell quiet for a split second, and then lashed out at the potted chamber plant. If the cuts at the stem and the several damaged leaves were any indication, it wasn’t his first attempt.

He looked up expectantly at Hubert, who shook his head. “Predictable. You might as well have told your victim you were going to stab them, although I suppose your aim has improved somewhat. Try again.”

Alexandre nodded, but before they could circle the poor potted plant again, Edelgard knocked on the door and let herself in.

“A moment, Hubert?” 

Hubert bowed deeply. Nothing in his posture gave away that she had surprised him. “Of course, my lady,” he replied immediately before turning back to her ward. “Alexandre, that will be all.” 

Alexandre seemed saddened for a second, but he was far too polite to contradict her orders. “Of course. Thank you for the lesson, Mr. Von Vestra,” he said solemnly and handed the dagger back to Huber,t who quickly put it back into his robes, completely invisible to the eye.

“I believe your reason instructor was looking for you, Alexandre,” Edelgard said with a raised brow, her arms folded. 

Alexandre looked sufficiently guilty for skipping his least favorite subject. “Ah… where did the time go… I’ll better be off then!” he said and bowed quickly to her before sprinting out of the room.

“I’ll see you tonight at dinner,” Edelgard called after him, “Don’t stay with Felix too late, and remember to take a bath afterward! We have guests!” 

“Will do!” he called back and then disappeared around the corner of the hall.

Edelgard turned to Hubert, who had poured them both a cup of coffee in the meantime. He looked stiff and somewhat uncomfortable, and for a moment, Edelgard was able to forget her own mental anguish that had plagued her the past few nights. _“Uncle Hubie?”_ she teased him with a small, knowing smile. 

Hubert looked positively mortified at being caught caring about people other than herself. “An unfortunate nickname bestowed upon me by Dorothea. I have forbidden him from using it many times.” 

Edelgard raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed with his bravado. 

“...in public,” Hubert amended quietly.

She took mercy on him and dropped the subject. “Why were you teaching him those techniques anyway? Between Felix and myself, his combat training is well taken care of. Besides, I thought you didn’t trust him.”

Hubert grimaced and Edelgard hid a smile behind her cup of coffee. They had both gone soft with age. 

“Some vital skills one should not learn from the Emperor herself. These hands of mine may be bloody, but they still remain of some use.” 

“You’re underselling your stellar worth to both me and the Empire,” she chided like she had done many times before. Some things never changed. “But not enough to distract me from my second question.” 

Hubert seemed suddenly intensely occupied with ensuring her napkin was folded according to protocol. “A bear raised in captivity can be directed to attack intruders, so to speak.” Hubert’s words would have stung more if she hadn’t seen the fondness in his every move mere seconds ago, and Edelgard wondered for whom he was playing this charade of aloofness, her or himself. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but Alexandre is almost always one step behind you. As one who has walked a lifetime in your shadow, I can’t help but see the opportunities he provides. He may see a dagger coming one day that I can no longer stop.” 

Edelgard rolled her eyes fondly. “You’ve grown to like him. You can just admit it.” 

“Perhaps there is a lingering fondness for the lad.” Hubert looked as if that concession cost him an arm and a leg. “Regardless, my actions are only motivated by my desire to serve the crown, I assure you.” 

“Of course, Hubert. I never doubted that.”

This time, she couldn’t help a small giggle from escaping. Hubert shot her an exasperated look.

“Now, I hardly think you would summon me to question my lessons to the young prince.” 

Edelgard decided not to call him out on the obvious change of subject. “No, I’ve received a most unsettling proposal from the Professor.”

She took the envelope out of the inner pockets of her dress and offered it to him. 

Hubert raised his eye at the sight of the broken wax seal, elaborately decorated with golden paint. “Should I take care of it?” he asked before even opening the letter.

Edelgard shook her head. “Not _that_ kind of proposal. It’s a marriage proposal from the King of Almyra.” Hubert frowned deeply at that, and muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch.

“What did you say?”

Hubert looked up from the letter for a second, and his eyes were alight with a dangerous spark. “I’ve been investigating him for decades, but none of my spies sent to the Almyran court have ever returned. Nor has an Almyra delegation visited our court since before the war. And now this, and Byleth is involved as well? Most unusual, indeed…,” he muttered to himself, reading the letter over and over again. “However, it was my understanding you did not want to marry a man.”

Edelgard took a sip from her cup of coffee. It was slightly too bitter for her tastes. “You are correct. However, as you probably suspected, I highly doubt this is actually a marriage proposal, or if it’s even from the Almyran King. The professor hinted that the sender has some vital information for us that will finally allow us to move forward with our plans to end our ‘allies’ once and for all.”

Hubert’s smile turned downright murderous. “It would be foolish to get our hopes up about something so insubstantial, but I can’t say that I haven’t been looking forward to the day you uttered those words. I take it you wish to meet him?”

“If it will further our goals, there is very little I will not do.” Edelgard unclenched her fist carefully, banishing the emotions back into her mind. “The meeting is set two weeks from now, at dawn.”

“Should you choose to go I will accompany you, as always. What is it you require of me?” 

Edelgard hesitated. Like Hubert, she had often imagined this final stage of their fight against Those Who Slither In The Dark, but in the past, those dreams had been filled with vengeful satisfaction and glorious victory. 

Her gaze darted to the plant Alexandre had maimed earlier and felt that uncharacteristic twinge of doubt fill her being once more. She took a deep breath. 

“May I ask you a question, Hubert?”

“Always, your Majesty.”

“A personal question,” Edelgard amended, fingering the edge of her cooling cup of coffee. “Not as your emperor, but as your friend.”

Hubert didn’t miss a beat. “That does not change the answer.”

For a moment, Edelgard said nothing, looking for a way to express everything that had been weighing her mind the past few days. During the war, she and Hubert had shared many things, but personal emotions were rarely one of those things. Both of them had been trained not to show any weakness from a very young age, and even now, well into their thirties, admitting them felt like putting a blade to their wrists. 

Edelgard let out a deep, heavy sigh. “What…. what comes after this?” she asked, forcing herself to look Hubert in the eye. “After we finally rid the world of this scum, what do you plan to do?”

Hubert leaned back into his chair and took a long sip of his coffee. “I plan to celebrate most thoroughly, before delving deep into undoing whatever our long time enemies have been hiding from us. I long to uncover their secrets, dissect them with my own two hands,” he said with no small amount of glee, smiling as if his coffee was a fine wine instead. 

He sounded so sure, so certain. Not unlike her usual self. 

Her discomfort did not go unnoticed. “If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, why do you ask?”

“It’s… probably inconsequential, a fleeting thought I need to crush underneath my heel. But lately, I’ve been thinking of my legacy and all that I leave behind. I’ve never cared for what history will think about me when I’m gone, as long as the future I envisioned becomes a reality. And yet...” She paused for a moment to stir her coffee, hoping that the right words would appear in the swirling black liquid. No such miracle occurred, of course. “Every action has its consequence, and every day has its dawn. And if I fall during this battle…”

“I will never allow that to happen,” Hubert interrupted her smoothly as if stating a fact. Not unlike Byleth mere days ago.

“You are all so certain of that, but for a very long time, I never looked beyond this battle. This was my apotheosis, my final goal,” she explained, rubbing her own temple to stave off a slowly forming headache. “But what I didn’t realize during my youth is that there is always an aftermath, even if I don’t live to see it.”

She didn’t know what response to expect, but it wasn’t the short laugh that Hubert barked. She looked up to see him look at her almost dotingly, or Hubert’s version of that, at least. 

“Ah, so that is what this is about,” he drawled, combing a hand through his short black hair. The little light that filtered in through the blinds reflected on a few white strands that had lately been turning amidst the sea of black. “I suppose not even you are exempt from the ruminations that come with our age and our frightening mortality.” 

“Do you often think about such things?”

Hubert shrugged. “Rarely. I have long made peace with death as long as it is in your service.” 

Edelgard sighed and shook her head, revealing yet another envelope from the inner pocket of her dress. Unlike the previous one, this one was adorned with her own personal seal. “I too, though I had made peace with that outcome. Due to my… _affliction_ , death will find me sooner rather than later. I’ve known that for years. Which is why I stayed up last night to finally write my will. This is the only copy, and I’m entrusting it to you.” Without any ceremony, she handed it to Hubert, who took it numbly.

For a moment, he just looked at her, his fingers clenched tightly around the paper, trembling slightly. 

“Feel free to read it, I don’t mind,” she encouraged him with a wave of her hand. “I’m naming Ferdinand my regent. As Prime Minister, he should be able to rule justly until Alexandre is of age. As a friend, I trust him to step down and hand power over to Alexandre instead of seeking to maintain it for himself,” she explained as if they were discussing the weather. This was the easy part, long since agreed between herself and Ferdinand although never formally put on paper. 

“He is an excellent choice, although I do worry for the state of our finances should he be put solely in charge of it.” Edelgard wondered if Hubert was aware of how telling the fond tilt of his lips was of his true emotions, but didn’t mention it. 

“I’m certain you’ll be able to keep him in check, as you have done for the past decade. But I also have another task for you specified in there. If I die here, will you take care of Alexandre?”

The envelope crumpled in Hubert’s clenched hand. “I…. cannot envision being alive in a world in which you are not, Your Majesty.”

That wasn’t the answer she had been looking for, but it wasn’t unexpected, either. “What about your own life? Your own desires and dreams? What about Ferdinand?” 

Hubert sat up stiffly in his chair. “W-what about him?” 

“You dedicated your life to me because of an ancient vow your family made to mine. You were a child, and it was never your choice. Although I am eternally grateful for your support, I didn’t conquer Fodlan to leave the injustices in place that were beneficial to me.”

Before she could say anything else, Hubert held up his hand. There was a blush high on his cheeks that highlighted their gauntness. “Please stop, Your Majesty,” he all but begged. “I understand and appreciate your sentiments. But although I may not have sworn my life to yours willingly as a child, I would not want any other life. I could not be happy anywhere else.” In a rare act of physical compassion, he put a comforting hand on her knee, if only for a moment. “Haven’t we talked about this before, back at the monastery? I assure you that my answer has not changed since then. Standing by your side is all that truly matters to me.”

Edelgard stood up abruptly, shrugging off Hubert’s hand. “You have always put my needs before your own, and our relationship before all others,” she bit out. There was a bitter taste on her tongue that had nothing to do with the coffee. “When I’m gone, I want you to be happy and free to make your own choices. To follow your heart. ”

“I do. And it keeps me by your side, always,” Hubert answered equally tenaciously.

Edelgard resisted the urge to rip out her own hair. Barely. 

“Let me put it differently, then. Politically, it would be a powerful gesture if two former nobles would marry not for status, procreation or crests, but for love.” 

Edelgard allowed herself a moment of vengeful satisfaction when Hubert startled so badly that he dropped both his cup of coffee and her will on the ground. “Y-your Majesty!” he stuttered. The cup hit the floor and shattered into a thousand little pieces, and along with it went the awkward tension between them.

She laughed and bent down to clean it up, much to Hubert’s mortification. They worked together silently, not unlike their days at the academy, pulling weeds at the Professor's command. Her shoulders relaxed. The mindlessness of the task put her worries to ease, if only for a moment.

When they were done, she snatched her will from where it had fallen on the ground and offered it back to Hubert. Save for a few drops of coffee and unfortunate wrinkles, it should still be readable.

“Think about it. Think about the life you might have beyond this final battle. After I am gone, either from my wounds or my second crest, tomorrow or a decade from now, I want nothing more than for you to live on and be happy. You’ve suffered enough for my sake. Your story deserves a happy ending and a long epilogue.”

Hubert sighed, defeated. “I will.... _think_ about it,” he said and took the envelope, wincing at its sorry state. “But I promise no more than that. It deeply disturbs me to imagine a world without you, but at your request, I will consider it.” 

“Thank you. Then we shall speak no more of it.” 

  
  


* * *

Verdant Moon, 1196 

* * *

The sun stood high in the sky when their small party consisting of Byleth, Hubert and herself finally made their way through the treacherous mountains that separated Fodlan from Almyra. Fodlan’s locket was as impressive as it had always been, a symbol of unity that was built with the combined efforts of three nations less than a century ago. During her teenage years, she had studied the defensive structure extensively, but seeing it in person never ceased to amaze her. 

Holst von Goneril's scarred face betrayed no emotion as he welcomed them into the fortress that held Fodlan’s Throat. His pink hair was graying, but he was as fierce a warrior as he had ever been, and Edelgard was glad she had brought both Hubert and Byleth to watch her back, just in case.

For the first time in a decade, she thought of Hilda, serene and manipulative at eighteen. Dying, bloody and smiling as Aymr cleaved through her body at twenty-three. Edelgard remembered Claude’s voice even more clearly, desperately calling for Hilda to retreat. But it was in vain.

That was over a decade ago, but his voice hadn’t changed that much, nor had his face. The rest of him was unrecognizable. His silk, green robes were adorned with gold, just like the crown that rested on his brow. 

_Claude_. Of course, it had to be _Claude_. 

“I decline your proposal,” Edelgard bit out instead of shaking his outstretched hand. Knowing Claude - or Khalid, or whatever his name was nowadays - there would be not one but several daggers up his sleeve, and not all of them metaphorical.

His guards raised their weapons at her blatant show of disrespect, but Claude easily shushed them. 

He rolled his eyes. “ _Really_? That’s the first thing you tell me after we see each other in over a decade?” he asked incredulously, a playful smile on his face. “ _Hello Claude, you aged like a fine wine, your beard looks dashing, how have you been all these years?_ ” he mockingly mimicked her with a high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like her own, making air quotations. 

Behind her, she sensed Hubert preparing his throwing dagger. 

“I came, did I not? In retrospect, I should have known it was you. After all, this smells like just another one of your schemes,” she said evenly. Truthfully, it had been Hubert who had - after countless hours of handwriting analysis - suggested that it was Claude, but she would never give Claude the satisfaction of knowing that. “What is your angle? You’ve declined every invitation I’ve sent you up until now, and gone out of your way to conceal your identity. If you even _are_ the true king of Almyra, that is.”

Claude shrugged. “Just from my father’s side,” he replied cheekily, playing with one of the many golden rings in his ear. “You, of all people, can hardly fault me for secrecy. I had my reasons. Besides, it’s not like you tore down Fodlan’s Throat to visit me, so _excuse me_ for trying to bring order to my country before committing to any social visits. And we parted on friendly terms last time we saw.”

“What made you change your mind? Unless you were serious about the proposal.”

Claude laughed, quite obviously at her expense. “Only a little. Imagine what we could do if the borders between our country would just... vanish?”

Edelgard raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed. “We could redraw borders all we want, but that doesn’t change the fact that those lines in the sand mean something to people. Centuries of customs and prejudice aren’t so easily wiped away.” She would know. She had learned that the hard way, every day, for more than a decade.

Claude clapped her on the back. “Look at you, becoming wise with your old age! I didn’t think you had it in you!” 

Edelgard had a hard time deciding if his praise was genuine or not. but put it away from her mind easily enough as they sat down at the table. 

“I told you about my dream once, did I not? Back during the war,” Claude mused out loud, and it took Edelgard a second to realize he was talking to her, and not Byleth. 

“I think I would have remembered a heart-to-heart like that.” They had never been close, although Claude was hardly an exception in that regard. She had never come to the monastery to make friends, even though she had ended up with some in the end.

“We’ll save that for after our victory, then,” Claude conceded, and poured himself a drink. Edelgard warily declined. “Very well. I owe you a favor, remember?”

That at least rang a bell. The battle of Derdriu had been an important victory, but what the history books did not mention was that it had been one of the most chaotic battlefields of the entire war. The Empire had thoroughly crushed the Alliance by the time they reached Derdiru, but if not for Byleth’s calm head and talent for on-the-fly decision making, she doubted they would taken as little losses that day as they did. 

“It was a hectic time, and I did not consider you would keep your promise.”

“A man is only as good as his word, and a King even more so,” Claude said, far more solemnly than she had ever seen him speak. Without the teasing smile on his lips, the faded scars were all the more telling of his own history of violence.

The illusion was broken, but only for a moment. “But let’s not pretend I have a noble, selfless heart. The Agarthans, or Those Who Slither In The Dark, as you call them - which, by the way, is an atrocious nickname, and I can’t believe any of you can say that with a straight face - have been an interest of mine for years.”

Edelgard’s voice dropped to a dangerously low pitch. “Don’t speak that name openly, if you know what’s good for you.”

Claude didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. “Would you please relax? My guards don’t speak the language, so they’re not going to tattle. Everyone in this room can be trusted, or should I doubt Hubert’s loyalty to you after all these years?

“You should doubt your own ability to continue breathing,” Hubert snarled back before Edelgard could. 

She shot a quick look at Hubert, shutting him up. “I don’t see how this is your problem. You’ve clearly washed your hands of Fodlan. Why now? Besides that _favor_ , that is.”

A shadow fell over Claude’s features, but his smile never faltered. “Recently they have started to take an interest in my kingdom as well, so I’m not entirely selfless in offering my aid.

Edelgard folded her arms in front of her chest. “That still doesn’t explain how you came across this knowledge. They’re experts at covering their tracks. I know from experience.”

“Lysithea and Teach told me years ago, when they asked me for help. Who do you think has been sending you information all this time?”

Edelgard turned around to Byleth, who stared back at her without an inch of remorse in her eyes. Hubert looked like he had been personally betrayed. 

“Should I be angry or grateful that you went behind my back and enlisted this... questionable ally?” she asked Byleth thinly. 

Byleth shrugged. “You really don’t have any room to talk about enlisting questionable allies, you know that, right?”

Edelgard looked away quickly. “Alright. You… _may_ have a point. We’ll….. we will talk about this later.”

Byleth stared at her impassively, and they both knew they wouldn’t. 

Claude turned to his guards and said something in Almyran, a language she lacked even rudimentary knowledge of. The female guard carefully produced a small, locked case from her bag, and handed it to her king with a sweeping bow. The other guard gave him the key with an equally reverential gesture.

It wasn’t until that very moment that Edelgard realized that her old classmate and former enemy truly _was_ a king. It occurred to her that if not for the secrecy of this meeting, this would be a historic moment. When was the last time the leaders of Fodlan and Almyra sat down at the same table, breaking bread, and speaking the same language?

She wasn’t counting that meal shared between house leaders after the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion, back when they attended the academy together. For a moment, her thoughts went to Alexandre, safe at home, probably either struggling through his reason homework, or practicing swordplay with Felix in the courtyard. She hadn't told him they were leaving. She hadn't told him anything.

She banished the thought quickly. It had been wise not to bring him. Claude could not be trusted with that secret, not when he had the uncanny ability to turn every bit of knowledge into a weapon.

When she turned her attention back to Claude, he opened the lock and produced the remains of a Dark Mage’s robe. The black and white eye symbol of her greatest remaining enemy stared at her mockingly. She fingered the fabric in disbelief at its existence. It even smelled like the dungeons that still haunted her dreams.

“How….”

“They’re good at destroying their tracks, I’ll grant you that,” Claude said. There was a cocky edge to his voice that made her feel as if they were seventeen again. “But I have some experience in the matter, too. This one was fast, but not fast enough. And after lengthy questioning, Odesse and I became quite well-acquainted.”

“Those Who Slither in the Dark never speak their secrets. They’re immune to torture,” Hubert snarled, speaking from extensive experience and frustration.

“Who said anything about torture? So savage. If you must know, there are other ways to make people talk.”

“How -”

Edelgard halted that discussion before it could become more heated. “Let’s say we believe you, for the sake of this discussion. What did you learn from him?”

“The names of several Agarthans working undercover, for one. I’m sorry to inform you that your uncle, Lord Arundel, has been replaced by one of them years ago.”

“We were aware,” Edelgard grit out between her teeth. 

“Right, I should have figured you would know that. But did you know that Linhardt’s father is one of them, too?”

That was news to her. “Wolfgang von Hevring?” He had been her and her father's Minister of Internal Affairs for decades before retiring from the post a few years ago to work at the Imperial court of law. He had drafted several laws that became the backbone of her young nation, and Edelgard had always respected him for allowing Linhardt to abandon his title without any complaints. But perhaps that sudden change of heart had been a different nature altogether.

“He’s not the only one. Margrave von Edmund’s new wife, the regent of House Kleiman, Lorenz’ cousin. Just to name a few. I can write them all down for you, but I don’t think it’s wise to put that information to paper.”

Hubert and Edelgard shared a look, and probably a racing heartbeat. This was gold. No, more precious than gold. Finally, they were no longer fighting against an uncatchable shadow. At last, justice was within her grasp! 

And the best part was, that wasn’t even all of it. Claude laid out a map in front of them, and pointed at several locations, shedding structures and events in a new light. With every word, another ancient secret was laid bare. Edelgard echoed Claude’s smile, meeting his eyes. 

She never wanted to trust anyone more in her life. But she was too old to believe the world turned for goodwill and promises. “What’s the catch?”

Claude shrugged. “An open border treaty between our countries,” he said matter-of-factly. “And perhaps an embassy in both our capitals, to start with.”

“And?”

“I want in on this entire operation from the beginning until the end. No secrets between us while we take them down. We need to act swiftly before any of this information becomes outdated.” 

_“And?”_

Claude sighed. “What _more_ could I want? A fancy house in Enbarr? A statue of myself? No thanks, I'm good.”

“You could have bartered for all of that at the cost of far less,” Edelgard said. “If what you say is true - and I want to believe you - then you must understand the infinite worth of what you just told me. I ask you one last time: what do you want for this information?”

“Is it really that hard to imagine that I would want to vanish this shadow organization for the sake of eradicating evil? To do good for the sake of goodness?" 

"Yes," Edelgard said bluntly.

"You know what? That explains so much about you," Claude accused. He fell back into his chair and combed his hand through his hair. "Look, I might only be half-Fodlan, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for its future. Can't you see we’re all intertwined, connected? The only thing that separates us are our prejudices and this blasted mountain range. That's what I want. A chance for a new dawn, for all of us.”

She looked at him, dressed in gold and greens. Deep inside, he was not that different from when she last saw him. He had surrendered his birthright easily when he could have fought for it, defended what was his at the cost of many lives. Instead, he had left and made the conquest of the Alliance nearly bloodless. 

She looked at him and sighed. She hadn't understood him back in the day. But she was almost twice as old as she had been when she started the war, and the weight of the crown had aged them both. He was wrong: they were very different people and there was so much more standing in their way than Fodlan's Locket. 

But she had leveled an ancient regime and crushed gods. This dream might not be so impossible.

"Well?" Claude asked, folding his arms against his chest.

This time it was Edelgard that extended her hand towards him. “Then it seems we have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than expected, partially because of the coronavirus (I work in IT so we've been very very busy), and partially because my mental health has been declining a little lately. I practiced self-care and now I'm back on my bullshit. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, as it is supposed to be both funny and philosophical/existential. The next chapter is a nice combo of angst, action and Alexandre, so sit tight for that. 
> 
> I struggled on how to introduce Claude, but then it struck me like lightning that Claude is indeed that dude that will sent his request for a meeting disguised as a proposal just to fuck with Edelgard's head (and for security reasons, but mostly the former). Originally Part III (chapters 4 and 5) had a subplot about Mercedes and Jeriza, but I ended up scrapping it because the chapters are already too long. If you're interested in them, ask me away :D.
> 
> I hope you're all doing well! Please let me know what you think, your reviews have been lovely and very motivating <3.


	5. Red Petals Dance in the Warm Summer Breeze (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war against the Agarthans comes to a bloody, bloody end, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, gore and all the horrors of war, although it is not described in detail. That character death warning on the fic that has been here since day one? That becomes relevant in this chapter.

* * *

Horsebow Moon, 1196 

* * *

Edelgard signed her name on the final document before storing it away with the rest. There would be no moon tonight, a perfect opportunity for a small army to draw ancient warp circles into the fields just outside of Enbarr, and disappear without anyone the wiser.

She felt unsettled and unfocused. She had for weeks. That was probably why she didn’t realize Dorothea had entered her study until she was standing right in front of her desk.

“You’re here,” Edelgardsaid stiffly, trying to hide her surprise.

Dorothea’s voice was as rich as she remembered it in her dreams. “Of course I came, Edie. We all did,” she said, with a frown making the barely-visible wrinkles that came with age all the more pronounced. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and they just stood there, lost somewhere between intimate strangers, distant friends, and a thousand words they never said.

Dorothea nervously twirled a lock of hair. “You… you look well.”

“Do I?” Edelgard said reflexively, her mouth pinched in a sour expression. She regretted it immediately afterwards and forced a stiff smile on her face. “My apologies, it’s been a long month, all things considered. You look healthy, Dorothea.”

 _Healthy_ hardly covered it, really. Dorothea’s hair was shorter but just as luscious, her skin bronzed and glowing. But it was her eyes that drew Edelgard in, sparkling with a thousand and one adventures she had had without her. She looked more balanced than Edelgard had ever seen her, and it stung that it had taken many years and an ocean apart for Dorothea to grow into this happiness.

“I am,” Dorothea answered sweetly, toying with the golden bracelets that adorned her wrists. There was no ring around her finger, Edelgard noted. “Leaving the Empire… I could have never put the past and all we’ve been through behind me if I didn’t take that step. It was the best thing I could have ever done, and I don’t regret a single thing about it,” she finished resolutely.

Edelgard narrowed her eyes. “I see.”

“You misunderstand me. I missed everyone dearly. Bernie, Hubie, Ferdie, even Fefe!” Then, with a smaller voice, she added: “And _you_ , Edie. I missed you most of all.”

“And yet, for five long years, you hardly ever replied to my letters,” Edelgard replied in clipped tones. After the first year, she had stopped sending them, recognizing a lost cause when she saw one. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to!”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Edelgard sneered back, letting her emotions get the better of her.

“We’re really jumping straight into this, huh? I’ve been back for less than a day.” Dorothea sighed deeply. “Goddess above, Edie! You can’t blame me for putting some distance between us when that’s all you’ve ever done to me! I want to be close to you, but every time I try to breach the distance, there is another layer of secrecy.” She slammed her fist on Edelgard’s desk. “If the professor hadn't summoned me, would I have ever known you had been hunting the masterminds behind several tragedies of the last centuries?”

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. The fewer people who knew -” 

Dorothea cut her off before she could finish her sentence with a frustrated roar. “I could have helped! Edelgard, when are you going to understand that? I want to help you! But you have to let me in!” 

“Dorothea, please understand that it was for the greater good.”

“How can you…. how can you say that? You haven’t changed at all, have you? This is just like back at the academy, when you prepared an entire crusade behind our backs. Are you ever going to run out of secrets? Should I prepare for another war after we clean up this one? Should I just stop cleaning my hands if you’re just going to keep bloodying them?”

“I didn’t ask you to come,” Edelgard hissed back. “You are free to leave at any moment. Again.”

“That is not what this is about, and you know it!” Dorothea cried out theatrically, and stomped around the desk until they were facing each other.

“This is _exactly_ why we didn’t involve you in our investigation,” Edelgard snapped “You’re always so… so… so... _dramatic_! This operation required every bit of discretion to succeed, and here you are, yelling at the top of your lungs because you weren’t included in the bloody business. Which - for the record - you fled the _country_ to get away from!”

Edelgard expected her to scream, to hit her, or to yell. Instead, all the fury and passion vanished from Dorothea’s body, and she did something far worse. Dorothea stepped forward, and grasped Edelgard’schin between her hands. Her fingers were still so warm, softer than they had any right to be after the war they had fought, and Edelgard could do nothing but meet Dorothea’s eyes as her own heart stopped beating.

“So this is what you really think of me, huh?” Dorothea said softly, a single tear spilling down her cheek.

 _I’ve gone too far,_ Edelgard realized with stone-cold clarity. “Dorothea…,” she pleaded and reached out to her.

Dorothea shook her head. “I want to help you. Why won’t you let me?” Her voice was small and another tear joined the first.

 _Because you’ll leave me too,_ her traitorous mind supplied. Edelgard vowed to die before speaking the words out loud. Instead she said. “You may think me heartless, but I am what I was made to be, what I need to be. Someday you’ll understand,” she said, a hard edge to her voice.

“Edie,” Dorothea said, her voice hoarse and fragile. “I’m not Alex. If not today, then when?”

It occurred to Edelgard that in another lifetime, she would have summoned all the determination and passion inside of her and used it to surge forward, to capture those wonderfully red lips until she knew exactly what Dorothea tasted like. She would have run her hands through her hair, bitten marks into her neck until everyone knew who she belonged to. She would have loved her a thousand days and more, and every day would have been better than the last.

But this was not that world, and time was running out. She stepped out of the poor mockery of an embrace and turned her back on Dorothea. It was easier that way. “Maybe after we’re at peace.”

“Edelgard!” Dorothea exclaimed brokenly. “We have been at peace for years. The only war that remains is the one in your head!”

That struck a chord within her. It made lowering her voice into a business-like quality easier. “This conversation is over. I have a war to prepare for.” She opened the door to the hallway, and gestured for Dorothea to leave.

“You can’t just -” Dorothea stammered, sounding ready to fall to her knees. “Edie, _please_.” 

Edelgard killed any regret inside of her. It was useless anyway. “Just… leave.” _You had no trouble doing it before._

“Fine! Cut me out of your life, see if I care!” A wracked sob echoed through the room, like the sound of an executioner’s axe hitting the block. “But after we have won this battle, we _will_ talk, and you will no longer have a battle to hide behind. You can’t run from this forever!” 

Edelgard regarded her coldly, ignoring her words. “Goodbye, Dorothea. Thank you for coming. I will see you after sunset.” 

Dorothe stalked out of her study, tears of anger marring her beautiful face. Edelgard watched her leave with a heavy heart and a bitter mind. She caressed the old scars on the inside of her arm, a faded testament of what she had endured and a constant reminder of what had to be done.

 _‘After we have won.,’_ Dorothea’s word echoed through her mind despite her attempts to banish the disastrous encounter from her memory. She carried them with her through her final preparations until well after her dinner with Alexandre.

It wasn’t supposed to be a goodbye dinner, but did feel like one. The cooks served all his favorite foods, and he was even allowed to drink a few sips of red wine from her cup. It wasn’t like she was drinking any of it herself: tonight there would be no room for compromise. She needed to be better than her best.

The food tasted like ash in her mouth, and her stomach was full of knots to eat. She tried to act as normally as she could, but Alexandre was bright and knew her well.

“What’s wrong?” Alexandre asked after the servants had cleared her half-eaten plate. 

Dorothea’s tearful face flashed through her mind. Edelgard forced her anxiety out of her mind and smiled calmly at her adopted son. “Nothing a fresh breath of air won’t fix.” 

Alexandre knew better than to try and pry it out of her. “Let’s go out for a walk then, or we could spar,” he suggested instead. 

“It’s late, Alexandre. You have an early seminar with Professor Casagranda in the morning, if I remember correctly.” 

Hubert could not be convinced to part from her side to watch over Alexandre and the Empire, but Manuela had been more than happy to take him under her wing. Her old professor was getting old and grey, but she had lost none of her sharpness. Edelgard prayed it would be enough if the worst came to be.

Alexandre sighed and gave her a look he had been giving her more often lately. “Fine, but what about stargazing?”

Edelgard considered it. There was still a lot to be done before tonight’s operation, and it was cloudy. But it had been a few months since the last time they traced the constellations in the sky together, and despite the chance of rain, she could think of no place where she would rather spend her potentially last night on Earth. 

“Just for a little bit then,” she relented and followed him back to his room. It was spacious, far bigger than the original nursery where she had left him his first night in Enbarr, and more befitting of the Imperial crown prince. 

The large glass doors opened to reveal an empty balcony and a thousand stars peeking back at her between rolling clouds. The sun had almost fully disappeared behind the horizon, painting the dark clouds an ominous red color.

It was the quiet before the storm, she realized, the heavy feeling of rain in the air after a long period of drought. Summer was coming to an end, and change was upon them in more ways than one.

She stopped her train of thought. The warm summer days were not gone yet. A breeze of humid wind blew through her air, her dress, and her mind. Edelgard welcomed it, let it wash away the doubts that had never plagued her mind to this extent before. 

Next to her, Alexandre pointed out one star after the next. Edelgard only had eyes for the light that shined in his eyes, trying to engrave the memory into her mind. Had it truly been more than ten years already since he had first been laid into her arms? Time had flown by, and yet, she could barely remember how it felt before he became a part of her. 

Alexandre smiled brightly, and she returned it without question, not really listening to what he was saying. She could have stayed in this moment forever, but time waits for no one. After a while, there were no more stars to count, obscured by heavy clouds that seemed to multiply. They settled for a companionable silence. One by one, little lights ignited behind the windows of every house in Enbarr, and the busy sounds from the daytime turned into the soft whispers of the capitol at night.

“When are you coming back?” Alexandre asked out of the blue, hanging half over the railing. 

Edelgard sighed. She had expected him to ask earlier. “Who said I was leaving?”

Alexandre rolled his eyes. “Auntie El…” 

They had tried to be discreet, and to an outsider, this was nothing but a normal Monday evening during the last vestiges of summer. But Alexandre was no outsider, and he must have noticed the battalions suddenly arming up, the influx of old friends and allies, and the forges running hot. War was on the horizon, and along with it, death. 

Tonight was the end of an era, one way or another. Edelgard sighed and watched the first drops of rain fall on her skin, one after another. “We _are_ leaving,” she confirmed. Then, after a second: “But you can’t come with me.” 

Alexandre sighed, looking too old for his twelve years on this soil. “Why this time?” 

  
She looked at him, young and bright, and considered that this might be the last time they saw each other alive, and did something she rarely did: spoke the truth. “Because we might not come back.” 

Alexandre turned to her, his fists balled, ready to fight. “That’s all the more reason for me to join you! I can fight! I can protect you!” He reminded her of sheep ready for slaughter, brave and naive until the end. 

Slowly, she took his balled fists into her own hands. “There is nothing more you can do for me. Just stay here and remain safe,” she whispered to him, and urged him to unclench his fists. When he finally did, Edelgard smoothed out his hair and wrapped her cloak around them both. It was slowly starting to pour down, and the rain was full of ghosts tonight. “You are the future. Your battles will come, in time. Let me fight this one for you.” 

Alexandre’s eyes burned brightly. “How can you say you fight for me, if I don’t even know what you’re going to do? Is there to be another war?” 

_The war never ended,_ Edelgard thought but did not say. She took one last look at the stars reflecting in Alexandre’s eyes like a galaxy of her own, looking at her as if she has all the answers in the world. For tonight, she would allow him that blissful illusion. 

“It will all be over soon,” she said instead, and guided them back inside. Behind her, the sun’s last rays faded, and in their absence, they revealed the brilliance of the night sky. The day was officially over, but the night was still young.

When she put Alexandre to bed that night, she tried not to think of the summer days slipping between her fingers. She combed his hair and read a story to him about Kyphon and Loog. It was an indulgence for both of them, a return to old times before Alexandre decided he was too old to be coddled. When she finished, she kissed his brow and turned off the light. Alexandre stared at her longingly, but he did not get up to follow her.

“Promise you will be back?” he called after her right before she could close the door behind her.

Edelgard swallowed, and hesitated for a second before making up her mind. What was one more white lie? “Of course,” she said, forcing the warmth she didn’t feel in her voice. “Good night, Alexandre.”

“Good night Auntie,” Alexandre whispered back, and Edelgard fought every instinct to run inside and never leave their little sanctuary.

She closed the door with a resolute thud and nodded once to the guards stationed at them. 

She took a deep breath, raised her chin high and swept through long, empty hallways like a ghost. Few guards were in the castle tonight, and none dared to oppose her stride towards her destination. Outside, lightning struck, flashing through the windows and casting long shadows across the hallway floors. 

Edelgard buried her thoughts about Dorothea and Alexandre deeper within her mind with every step forward, and reminded herself that although boats are safe at the harbor, that is not where they belong. It was time to set sail and brave the storm. 

-

When she finally entered the private armory, she was surprised to see so many familiar faces. Claude and Petra caught up like old friends while sharpening their axes. Linhardt and Lysithea were debating something she could barely follow, and Dorothea stood at their side, occasionally contributing to the conversation when she wasn’t trying to catch her gaze. Edelgard quickly averted her eyes to the sight of Ferdinand and Byleth sharing a cup of tea and laughing about some frivolities. Some things never changed. She was mildly surprised to see Felix had shown up, dressed in old Kingdom blues and with the Aegis Shield strapped to his back. He met her eyes for a second and tilted his chin, as if challenging her to send him away. When she did no such thing, he returned back to his conversation with Bernadetta. 

All the former Black Eagles had shown up except for Sylvain, who had declined her vague call-to-arms in favor of fighting off yet another invasion from Sreng. When she started her war, she had never expected any of them to join her at all. She had prepared to sacrifice those she had come to care for for the sake of the future she envisioned.

But they had defied her expectations back then, and they continued to do so today. Edelgard’s heart felt full, and if she still had any tears left to cry, they would have been shed here, onto the ground of this dusty armory with almost everyone she cared for in the world surrounding her.

Thankfully, Hubert appeared at her side before it could come to that. “I took the liberty of retrieving this for you, Lady Edelgard,” he said, and handed her a carefully- wrapped object.

The moment she took it from his hands, she knew what it contained and almost dropped it. “I told you not to touch those weapons, Hubert. You know better than anyone here the power of their corruptive influences,” Edelgard hissed.

Hubert grimaced. “My hands are unworthy. Worry not, I had it carried here by someone unaffected.”

From the back of the room, Byleth waved at them, and then produced her own relic from seemingly thin air.

 _Magic_ , right.

Edelgard looked at Aymr, and considered sending it back. There were a hundred other weapons at her disposal.

But cowardice did not bring about miracles, she reminded herself. She closed her eyes and pictured Alexandre’s smile right before she tucked him under the covers. She pictured the streets of Enbarr in the morning, the smell of fresh food being sold at every corner. She remembered her siblings, and all they had suffered for this very moment. The moment of truth.

Then Edelgard opened her eyes, grasped the handle, and let the power of a hero's relic flow through her. The visions of fire filled her veins immediately, along with an undeniable and uncomfortable truth: they weren’t visions at all. They were memories of blood and burning, things she had inflicted upon the world. At the end of the day, the axe was nothing but a weapon, a conduit to bring out a monster that had resided in her for decades. 

Edelgard took a deep breath, felt her anxiety fade into stone-cold determination. If she needed to be a monster to conquer monsters, then so be it. 

Her friends were looking at her. Edelgard swallowed deeply, needing a moment to rein in her emotions before she found her voice. “Thank you all for coming at such a short notice, you have no idea what it means to me to see you all gathered here, and I will vow that until the day I die, I will remember your loyalty.” 

Casper clapped vigorously until Hubert shut him up.

“Forward,” she commanded her companions. “We shall not rest until their heads roll, until every last drop of their blood is spilled and their houses are burned to the ground. For too long have they manipulated this continent, made good men and women fight and die for their amusement. Tonight, that ends! Those Who Slither in The Dark will be no more. Who is with me?”

Edelgard had declared her first revolution in front of the masses to a thundering applause. The determined shouts of support from her companions, scared and tired but unwavering despite it all, felt so much louder. 

“Then let us go. And if I die tonight - if any of us dies tonight - let it be known that it has been an honor to fight alongside all of you. Now, let us have our revenge!”

When she raised Aymr into the air, one relic after the other joined. Swords, lances, axes, staves and bows. Edelgard just prayed it would be enough. It would have to be.

-

What followed was carnage. Between Hubert, Lysithea, and their corps of dark sorcery engineers, the warp circle was laid down in no time. 

She held Hubert’s gaze one last time before meeting Claude’s eyes. He winked, but his smile was grim and determined. She shook her head, readied her dagger, and cut a thin line on her arm. She barely registered the pain, focusing only on the synchronization of her allies. Claude and Hubert echoed her movements, letting their blood drop on the ground until the circle lit up. It was blood magic of the most foul kind, but one does not go into war with demons without arming themselves with similar weapons.

She took one last breath, and invoked the ancient magic. “Shambhala!”

The world shifted and distorted around her and her companions, and for a moment, neither time nor space existed. Then, like a wave hitting the shore with all the crushing power of nature, it came back crashing down upon her twice as hard. She barely maintained her balance when they materialized onto the site of their final battle.

She blinked, trying to get accustomed to the darkness. It was stifling, not unlike the dungeons that still haunted her nightmares. It was a magical darkness, broken only by the distant glow of neon lights. 

This battle, she knew, would be nothing like any she had ever faced before. The strange light from coming from otherworldly buildings and constructions clashed with Aymr’s red glow. Around her, her companions gawked in equal measure, because nothing could have prepared them for this sight. So this was the mythical world of Shambhala they had tried to uncover for so long? This was the sanctuary of evil? Only now was she starting to understand Hubert’s desire to pluck their secrets apart and take them as his own. 

She had little time to take in her surroundings. Footsteps echoed through the emptiness of eternal darkness, and with every passing second, she could make out more strange pale humanlike creatures surrounding them. Her battalion raised their shields defensively, but Edelgard finally felt some of her confidence return. This, at least, she was used to. 

“What is the meaning of this?” A tall, unhealthily pale skinned man yelled at them, his spear pointed at her throat.

She took a deep breath, emptied her mind, and nodded once. It was all her friends needed.

“Answer me, or pay the price!” the Agarthan demanded.

Instead of giving him an answer, Lysithea blasted his head off with a particularly painful spell. His smoldering remains fell to the ground, a declaration of their intent. 

“Forward!” Edelgard bellowed on the top of her lungs. Aymr lifted high in the air, craving blood.

She readied herself for the onslaught. Four Agarthans charged straight at her. The tension of dark spellcraft being woven filled the air, but before they could utter the words, she felled them with her axe. A flash of light erupted beside her, the darkness rang with shrill laughter, and the innumerable cries of pain and life coming to a most violent end. 

Edelgard moved forward with her battalion, claiming one outpost after another. Blood soaked her white hair and tainted her skin. She hardly noticed until it started dripping in her eyes. She swung her axe, ending anyone who dared to stand in her path. Her blood boiled in her veins, spilling from her numerous injuries. Her crest stole the life of those she ended, bathing her in healing light while that same light left the eyes of her victims.

Edelgard cut through one body after another. All around was nothing but a whirlwind of disorder and violence, a blur of color and vicious motion, and she was the eye of the storm. She was the wind that blew her enemies away, the lightning that scorched them from this earth and crashing waves that mopped up all those who remained. This is what they had made her to be, and this is what would end them. 

Never before had she felt both so alive and so dead at the same time. She was hardly aware of her surroundings, single-mindedly focused on one target after the next. Byleth stuck to her side the entire time, watching her like a hawk. Together, they cut a crimson path towards the throne. 

Magic sizzled around her, static in the air, and the earth shook until it broke. 

“Dark Magic!” Lysithea cried out while sending two of her assailants flying into a hole that had opened up in the ground.

“Protect the casters from the Titanus!” Byleth commanded like a guiding star. “Stay off the ground if you can and whatever you do, keep healing yourself! Those towers are sentient and will target whoever looks the weakest!”

They directed some of their forces to take them out, but more and more enemies kept swarming them. There were far more than they had anticipated, and even Byleth was starting to slowly lose her famous unshakable composure.

Then, Edelgard heard a bone-chilling laugh coming from the closed building at the centre of the city without lights. Any doubts she might have had in her mind were gone and replaced with the sweet taste of vengeance. 

“Let’s end this!” she cried, and ordered what remained of her battalion toward the door. Many of her men fell, but they kept fighting, kept killing, kept pushing forward. Nothing else mattered but this.

But just reaching the door wasn’t enough. A fearsome warrior guarded it, and his bolt axe crackled with powerful electricity. 

“Halt,” he said, his voice booming from behind his helmet. “This is as far as you will be allowed to go, surface dweller.”

“If you think that after all we have been through, I will let you stop me…” Edelgard trailed off. 

The knight nodded once and crossed the distance. She let him strike first and barely caught the blade with her shield. It was enchanted for exactly this purpose, but Agarthian technology was nothing to be trifled with. She cried out in pain as electricity coursed through her body. It was not strong enough to stop her, but it came damn near close.

A blow for a blow. She cursed, eyes frantic, but with unwavering hands, she gave as good as she got. The armor of his shoulder dented with a satisfying crunch. Any normal mortal would have been shattered by the blow, but this man was far from that.

Chilon. One of the highest Agarthan generals, or so their intel had informed them. It had not done the man justice. She struck him again, dealing debilitating damage with every hit and denting his armor left and right but her opponent would not fall. She was fast, but his defense was beyond human, and the dark buzzing magic that surrounded his armor softened any blow she was able to land. If only she hadn’t shattered her sword a few minutes back! 

Thunder struck her again before she found time to jump for cover. Lightning-like bruises crawled up her body faster than her crest could heal them, and she knew things quickly started looking sour for her. Chilon raised his Bolt Axe high in the sky once again, and Edelgard braced for a blow that never came.

The first thing she heard was the sound of metal hitting bone. She opened her eyes (when did she close them?) to see Felix standing between her and Chilon. The Aegis Shield still sizzled with the magical residue.

“What are you waiting for?” he bellowed, and charged straight at his opponent, locking him in a duel. His Cursed Ashiya Sword dripped with blood and ancient magic, and was impossible to ignore. “Byleth already unlocked the door. Go, you fool!”

“Right!” she echoed, not bothering to thank him for his assistance. She quickly downed her final Elixir, and took the opening as soon as Felix provided it, bolting past Chilon and into the room at the peak.

It was surprisingly light, although eerily so. Edelgard had to look twice before she recognized the man in front of her. 

“So at last you reveal your true form, _Uncle_ ,” she said to his unnaturally pale face and deathly white eyes. He looked ancient, but she had felled far more magnificent creatures. “Or should I say…. _Thales_.”

Thales smiled at her, full of teeth. His hands darkened with black magic that seemed to suck all the surrounding light into it. “I knew you would come for me one day, my dearest niece. You can’t hide the fire in your eyes, your desire to destroy,” he said in a parody of kindness, poison dripping from every word. “It took you longer than expected, granted. Sick of hiding with your tail between your legs?”

“I have done nothing of the sort. I have been biding my time.”

“For what? Justice? _Revenge_?”

Edelgard raised Aymr, ready to strike. “Your head, and all those that have supported you,” she promised him, before raising her voice loud and clear. “Listen to me Agarthans, and listen well! You have schemed and scurried in the dark far too long, but no more! Tonight, your suffering ends: you either join my side and repent, or die like a rat trapped in the sewers of your pitiful existence. This is your last chance. What say you?”

For a moment, all battle came a halt, and the silence felt all the more unreal. Edelgard counted the seconds, but not a single weapon dropped to the ground. She wasn’t surprised. A rat was a rat, and she didn’t expect them to change. It did however have the desired effect when Thales dropped his guard.

Thales laughed, louder and louder. “Foolish girl. Do you really think a few pretty words will move us? My people have suffered for generations under the tyranny of those you called gods. Our vengeance is older than the ground you walk on, carefully cultivated for centuries. You are nothing but a vessel for our destiny! And tonight, your destiny will come to an end.”

“We shall see,” Byleth chimed up neutrally from her side, and charged straight for Thales’ head. 

Edelgard swung Aymr at him as soon as he dodged, but before she could hit him, a force field repelled them both. Agarthean technology, she thought, and charged again. The second blow was negated again, as was the third. 

“Strike me! Your struggle is futile!” Thales exclaimed as he unleashed unspeakable dark magic. The ground lid up with purple energy, and then erupted once more. 

Edelgard was barely able to jump up in time to avoid the worst of the impact, but around her, buildings shook dangerously, and panicked shouts filled the air. So _this_ had been the source of the earthquakes. Thales was willing to break down the very foundations of his own city to take them down, it seemed. 

_Very well,_ Edelgard thought, and summoned her own magic. Sometimes you had to fight fire with fire, evil with evil. They would rue the day they taught her this spell. 

Summoning dark magic always took a toll on her, but it was more than worth it to see Hades rip through the barrier. “Now, Byleth!” she screamed on the top of her lungs. 

From the shadows, Byleth used her sword as a whip, cutting Thales’ armor across the shoulder. He intercepted the next blow, but the motion opened him up for Edelgard to advance upon him. Now that they had broken through his barrier, he was no match for her. 

Edelgard swung Aymr forward and with the power of both her crests combined, she cleaved through his armor, breaking his bones with an audible crack.

It was a testament to Thales’ inhumanity that he didn’t even scream. He fell to the ground, broken beyond repair. Byleth immediately put her sword on his throat.

“Drop your weapons and surrender,” Edelgard demanded, Aymr raised high “And I will grant you and your people a merciful death.”

Thales laughed, and spat blood in her face. It was a dark red, tar-like liquid. “Even if I should fall, a thousand will rise in my place. You are _nothing_ ,” he hissed at her, a triumphant smile on his face.

Edelgard wiped the blood from her face. “Like Myson? Or were you thinking of Odesse?” she drawled, taking the delight when the smug look on Thales’ face finally faltered. She called out more and more names, carefully remembered, whispered only in the dark.

With every word, Thales looked a bit less smug. “W-what? How do you know those names?”

“See the blood on my hands? It is the blood of your followers, of your soldiers, and soon of you. You have your people, and I have mine,” Edelgard said, letting Aymr touch his skin, the eye in the centre going wild, calling for his filthy blood, for death, for justice! “While you were playing chess, I dedicated every last resource to finding every last one of them… and putting a stop to you.” 

Thales laughed in disbelief, a terrible sound. “You’re a foolish child still that doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You will never get us all!”

A taunting voice spoke up from behind them. “Sorry to disrupt this family reunion!’ Edelgard did not need to look around to know to whom it belonged. Claude always had a sense of dramatic timing. “So you must be the Grandmaster, Thales, was it? Odesse sure had a lot to say about you. But don’t worry about your hideout in the north? It’s gone. Your people in Almyra have been executed, and your Dagdan spies rot in the dungeons. Next time you try to harm my kingdom, think twice.”

Thales’ pale face drained of any remaining blood. He scrambled back somewhat, but Byleth’s sword pressed against his neck kept him from going far. 

“Did you succeed as well, Hubert?” Edelgard asked, never taking her eyes off Thales. 

“Certainly. That stain upon the earth has been dealt with… _permanently_.” Hubert appeared behind her, and the blood of his dark warp magic was still on his gloves. “My apologies, I could not arrive earlier. Our… ally here…. held me up.”

They had always known that their enemies needed to be taken care of all at once. Like a weed, they needed to be pulled out all at once, or the root would simply sprout a new plant, and Those Who Slither in the Dark would forever remain a thorn in their eyes. It had been risky to split her party up and attack all three bases at once, but there had been no time for safe strategies. It was all-in, and Edelgard played to win by any means necessary. 

“It’s over, _Uncle_. I did my homework, and prepared for years. You taught me that, so I suppose a thank you would be in order.”

“No… It can’t be…” Beneath her, Thales shook his head slowly, starting to understand what she already knew. With Claude and Hubert’s teams at her side, victorious, it was obvious that their calculated gamble had paid off. 

Edelgard laughed, she couldn’t help it. She had dreamed of this moment for years. 

“In a perfect society, you would face a court of law, and be judged by all the people for your sins.” Edelgard raised her axe high in the eye, and to her deep satisfaction, her uncle gulped. His eyes were trained on the pulsing blade in her hands. “Once upon a time, you made me believe I could create such a society, that it was my destiny. But that was all a lie. My best efforts were not good enough. So tonight, you don’t get what you deserve, but if this hurts even a fraction of what the pain you have bestowed upon me, upon my _siblings_ \- then I will sleep peacefully tonight.”

“I made you! I did what I had to do for my people, my brethren for the greater good! You and I are not so different!”

Edelgard faltered for a second, and considered his words. She wanted to deny them, and she would have if she were still twenty and so sure of herself. The past few years, however, had taught her much about the world, and perhaps even more about herself. 

“Lower your weapon, and I will grant you what you wish. Revive the dead. Bring down your enemies… Without me, you are nothing.”

“Maybe you’re right. We both have done terrible things for the sake of a better future. Goddess, how arrogant you are, to think that you can give me what I wish. But how arrogant I’ve been, for believing you when you said only I could change the world for the better, and that I needed that power.” Edelgard closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The fire that had led her this far had simmered down to a small flame, barely enough to sustain her. 

This was not the moment for doubt. When she opened her eyes, she forced a bloody smile on her face. “But… but I’m drawing the line in the sand, something I should have done a long time ago. I’m doing it here and now. Tonight, I will commit my last atrocity and wipe the last of your people from the face of the earth. So look at me, my accursed creator, for your creation will be your downfall.”

She didn’t give him another chance to speak. Instead she looked him straight in the eye, and brought Aymr down, cleaving straight through his chest. Thales let out a strangled cry as she felt his bones break. The crest of flames ignited over his body, absorbing his life into her own. When the light faded, Thales’ eyes fell to the ground like a rag doll, and the floor was covered with black blood. 

For a moment, nobody said a word. _It’s over,_ Edelgard thought in disbelief, panting loudly. Slowly, she lifted her axe, arms shaking with sudden fatigue. 

Then, the ground shook once more. “Congratulations….” Thales’ lifeless body spat with his final breath. There was a wicked smile on his face. “You have your victory… too bad that your people… like mine …. will never….see… the light… again….”

Hubert fired a spell at his remains to ensure that this time, he remained dead. Edelgard did not have the time to check because as soon as the words left his body, dark energy flowed out of Thales like blood and into the seal which he had been standing upon this entire time. It lit up purple, pulsing faster and faster. The ground quaked uncontrollably, and the ceiling creaked dangerously. 

A horrible realization dawned upon Edelgard. “The device… the Javelins of Light! It’s self-destructing!”

Hubert cursed behind her, and with Byleth and Claude at their heels, they ran down the stairs before the ceiling above them exploded and pillars gave way. 

Their friends, bathed in blood, came running at them. “What’s going on?” Dorothea demanded from the back of Petra’s pegasus.

“Thales is dead but we’re not out of the water yet,” Byleth said, and then performed some kind of ritual that instantly made her feel twice as resistant to magic. “This will protect you from the magical earthquakes,but it won’t last long. We need to get out of here!”

Edelgard was about to give the order to the remaining troops, when Claude shook his head, a grim look on his face that made him seem a decade older. 

“Not so fast, Teach,” he said, pointing at the “That’s a whole lot of energy. I’m no expert in dark magic, but I’d wager that if thing goes off, we shouldn’t underestimate what it will take with it.”

Byleth nodded, looking pained.

Cold sweat dripped down Edelgard’s back, and any elation that was still left from killing Thales was gone. “Hubert, can you make an estimate? Could this hit the capital?” she asked, but all she thought of was Alexandre, sleeping blissfully unaware in his bed. 

Hubert and Lysithea muttered a few spells under their breath that Edelgard could barely follow. She didn’t need to know what they were saying to know that every bit of knowledge they were uncovering made things worse. From on top of his horse, she could see that even Linhardt looked distraught.

After what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, Hubert shook his head, looking as white as a sheet. “The capital? We should be lucky if that is all that is all that is destroyed. Think bigger, like the size of a duchy, if not the entire continent.”

Edelgard’s mouth fell open, anger surging through her body. She slammed her fist into a pillar, shattering it. “Damn that man!”

“It can’t be…” Dorothea exclaimed, giving voice to Edelgard’s thoughts. “Everything we’ve done, all the blood we’ve spilled, all the lives lost…For nothing?’ Her voice broke in the end, and she sobbed in Petra’s shoulder.

“We have to get out of here!” Byleth cried out, breaking their trance. It almost seemed as if the flashing lights made her eyes glow in the dark. “If we don’t leave now, we will all die.”

Edelgard nodded numbly, her mind racing. She was prepared to die here, had expected it, if not welcomed it. But she had not prepared for the death of her Empire. She balled her fists, swallowed her emotions down, and started running for the teleportation circle they had drawn. It was their best bet.

She was hardly down the first flight of stairs when she realized that they were missing someone. “Lysithea!” she cried, turning around. “There is no time to waste! We have to go now!”

“Then go!” Lysithea yelled back, tears in her eyes. They gleamed with a determination that scared Edelgard not because it was unexpected, but because she knew exactly what Lysithea was doing. 

“Lysithea, I _order_ you to come back with us! Don’t do this!” she cried out, and if it weren’t for Hubert’s warning hand on her shoulder, she would have started running back.

Lysithea ignored her orders, and instead blasted the rubble away until the glowing magic seal on the floor was clear in view. Thales’ body was nothing but a heap of drained remains at this point, but the seal pulsed faster and faster.

“I….. I always h-hated these crests, good for nothing -!” Lysithea hissed, letting her dark magic lift her off the ground until she levitated right in the middle of the maelstrom of arcane energy. “But in the end I’m grateful, because their power allows me to do…. this!”

Edelgard felt the shift in the atmosphere as two crests flashed through the air erratically. All magic was sucked out of the air, but it was all drowned out by Lysithea’s high pitched scream. Her eyes lit up purple, and dark bloody tears poured from her eyes, but despite it all, she held on.

“She’s redirecting the energy, reversing the spell,” Hubert muttered besides Edelgard, looking somewhere been impressed and frightened. 

“Can you turn it off?” Byleth yelled, but she sounded defeated as though she already knew the answer.

It took Lysithea a few moments to shriek out an answer. “I…. I can’t! Not all of it! There’s too much energy gathered, it needs to go….somewhere!” 

Byleth nodded sadly, and turned back at them.

“You can’t mean…. we’re leaving her here?” Dorothea stammered. he jumped off Petra’s pegasus with the obvious intent to take Lysithea’s place. Edelgard grasped her hand when she tried to sprint by. Without Lysithea’s enormous magical reserves, knowledge of dark magic, not to mention her dual crests, Dorothea wouldn’t last a minute. 

Edelgard swallowed. But _she_ , on the other hand. She might just have a fighting chance. It was her country, her duty. And yet, she was rooted to the spot, unable to leave, unable to move forward. Around them, the world crumbled, and time was running out. 

Now was not the time to realize she wanted to live to see another day, see the stars, wake up with Dorothea in her bed, and Alexandre waiting for her at the breakfast table. She wanted to live, damnit! But so did Lysithea.

Edelgard forced her feet to move up the steps, but before she could get far, this time it was Dorothea that kept her from moving. “Edie, don’t.”

The ground shook, and Edelgard almost lost her footing. Byleth’s protective shield was starting to wear out. 

“What are you gawking at? I can’t keep this up forever! Go, you fools!” Lysithea roared. Shockwaves of magic radiated from her body. 

“But you’re….” 

Even from afar, she could see Lysithea nod frantically. “Redirecting it back into the machine…. I can’t…. _hold_ it much longer.” And while she said that, some of the dark energy broke free, shooting up the ceiling until the hole was big enough to let the rain in. “Run! Warp them out, Hubert, come on!”

“But that will kill you!” Edelgard cried back. 

Lysithea’s eyes pupils were gone from her eyes, consumed by magic, and yet Edelgard could feel her gaze narrow down on her own. “No… it will set me free.” Her tone was final.

After a moment that stretched on forever, Edelgard nodded. “I’ll… ensure your parents are taken care of,” she vowed, and then turned around, meeting Hubert’s eyes. He was almost done with the process of drawing a dark warp circle on the ground. “Let’s go, everyone! We’ve already wasted too much time!”

They scrambled to fit inside the circle, knowing this was the only chance they got to get out. Right before Hubert warped them all out, Petra bowed one last time towards Lysithea. 

Edelgard’s heart beat painfully in her chest as she watched Lysithea slowly fall apart under the strain. “Thank you, Lysithea. For everything,” she whispered, and then turned her eyes away. “Let’s go, Hubert.”

Hubert didn’t waste a second.The fabric of reality bent around them, wrapping them up and spitting them into an open field. It wasn’t where they had begun their journey, but Edelgard prayed it would be far enough.

She didn’t have to wonder for long. Mere moments after she found her footing, the ground shook one last time, and they were blown away by one noiseless flash. The light blinded her, and she felt magical pressure so intense she almost couldn’t breathe. What scared her most was the absolute absence of sound that lasted for a moment. 

When the light faded, she saw an outline of a mushroom cloud against the darkened sky, far in the distance. 

“We’re alive…” Claude muttered next to her, sounding as incredulous as she felt. 

Cool rain fell on her face, quickly joined by warm tears streaming uncontrollably as Edelgard cried for the first time since her siblings died.

They had won, but it had come at an enormous loss. Only half of their battalion had made it back, which was nothing to say of Lysithea. Edelgard did not want to think about the unsuspecting villages that were inevitably blown up by the enormous explosion she had just witnessed. It had been foolish to believe they would all come out unscathed, and yet, for a moment, she had believed her own lies.

Thales was dead, she reminded herself, but she no longer felt triumphant. The adrenaline was quickly leaving her body, making her feel old and hollow. Vengeance, how she had dreamed of it, hungered for it! But now that she had gotten it, it tasted as bitter as the ash that started falling from the sky. In the end, her brothers and sisters were still gone, and they were never coming back. 

Edelgard looked at her hands, soaked in both red and black blood. Many more were never coming back. 

“Your Majesty?” Hubert asked, placing his hand on her shoulder. His hair was a mess and his eyes frantically searched her face. His voice sounded like it came from a mile away. “Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?”

Edelgard shook her head numbly, unable to tear her gaze away from her hands. Instinctively, she reached for Aymr, only to find it gone. Lost in the explosion, then. It wasn’t the only part of her that would never be coming back. She thought she would rejoice the moment she finally could destroy that axe, but now that it was gone, she realized how easy it had been to blame a weapon for the bloody path she carved. It wasn’t a comforting realization in the slightest.

Edelgard went through the motions without thinking. She had been a military commander and an emperor for over a decade, so it wasn’t hard to lose herself in the aftermath of battle. She counted the survivors, marked the names of the dead, and visited the wounded. They were in Hrym territory, Petra deduced after a quick surveillance. Edelgard could barely remember where that was on a map, feeling too dazed, too out of touch with reality.

When everyone was accounted for, her soldiers - no, her _friends_ \- looked at her expectantly. Edelgard’s limbs felt too heavy to lift, and it took all of her energy to raise her head in a facade of determination. A smile was too much to ask for.

“The war is over,” she announced solemnly. “A new era has begun. Tomorrow, when the sun rises, its light will shine over a new world, and that world will never know the truth of what happened last night.”

There were some protests, some cheers, but Edelgard didn’t address them. Instead, she shrugged off anyone that came in to congratulate or comfort her, and dragged herself to the edge of the hill that they had teleported to. The grass underneath her hands was wet and cool underneath her hands. 

When she declared her war decades ago, it had been to a thundering applause and the steadfast knowledge that what she was doing was right. Now? At the end of it all? 

Edelgard shook her head. She should be happy to be alive. She achieved her final victory, avenged her fallen brethren! And yet, her heart beat dully in her aching, hollow chest, and the lump in her throat was painful. Her eyes, still glassy with tears, kept straying to the dark clouds behind the hills, where their final battle had taken place. 

How had Lysithea felt in her final moments? Had she felt victorious? Had death absolved her, set her free as she proclaimed it would? Edelgard traced the scars on the veins of her forearm, and forced herself to remember how those monsters had carved them into her. 

The memory used to fill her with purpose. But now… nothing. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Edelgard looked up slowly, blinking a few times before she realized Claude was right in front of her. 

She let out a low, long sigh, too tired to make herself presentable. “What do you want?”

The grass beside her crunched wetly when Claude sat down. “I’m just checking up on you. Hubert has almost recovered enough to warp us back.”

Distantly, Edelgard realized he was probably concerned, although she did not understand why he would feel that way about her. She realized she didn’t understand a lot of things about him.

For a while, neither of them said anything, and they just watched the stars above, peeking from behind the clouds. It had stopped raining, but her face was still wet. It was almost a companionable silence. _Almost_.

“What will you do now?” 

Claude laughed, but it sounded off, and his smile never reached his eyes. “Funny, I was about to ask you that.”

Edelgard shot him what she hoped was a withering look, but it only made him smile more. 

“I will return to my lands, and make my dream a reality,” Claude said in a low voice, and let himself fall back into the grass. He looked comfortable despite the broken armor, bloodsoaked clothes, now with additional wet grass stains. “At times like this, I just gaze up at the stars to clear my head. I've been that way since I was a kid. Looking up at the big, starry sky makes my dreams feel small... which makes it feel like I can actually make them come true.” 

He sounded different than usual, almost as tired as she felt. She followed his gaze, and the same stars she had counted mere hours ago with Alexandre stared back at her. Her world had shook and turned upside down, but the sky above remained unchanged. It was as scary as it was comforting.

Edelgard let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and like a puppet whose strings had been cut, let herself fall next to him in the dirty grass. 

“Your dream…. you never did explain it to me,” she whispered.

“So you’re willing to listen now?” Claude mocked her, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Yes,” she said, as much to herself as to him.

“Better late than never,” he said teasingly, but the hand that patted her own once, then twice, told her something else. 

Edelgard stole a look at Claude, and realized something. They were both experienced leaders, kings and emperors in their own right. They had been raised to rule and to fight, but this... being vulnerable? It felt like a sin.

But it wasn’t wrong. “Go on,” she urged him.

Claude swallowed. “It’s…. you see the stars above you? They’re miles apart, so different, and yet, from our humble earth, they all look the same. Just like you, me and maybe even Those Who Slither in the Dark. Maybe, if they had been able to let go of their past, of their prejudices and hatred, we could have worked together and made the world into a better place for everyone. Was revenge really worth it? Man, what a waste…. ” he muttered the last part under his breath.

Edelgard considered his words. Thales’ and his ilk deserved everything they got, and more. And yet….

“We’ll never know now,” she whispered into the night, final like a death sentence. She didn’t regret what she had done or the blood she had spilled. But there were a thousand doors closed to her now, a thousand answers she would never get. 

Claude nodded. “No, we won’t. But we are still left, and we have the power to change things, to make this world a better place, one without prejudice and hate. Make sure that all the sacrifices weren’t for nothing, and that those who come after us don’t have to make them in the first place. To create a better world, like that kid of yours.”

Dorothea’s words echoed through her head. “He’s…” Edelgard swallowed deeply, forced herself, against her very nature, to be vulnerable. “He’s Dimitri’s son.”

Claude turned towards her, away from the sight of their carnage. “I figured. What I couldn’t quite figure out was how he ended up in your care.”

“He was my brother,” Edelgard admitted.

Claude’s eyes grew wide. “Oh damn. How did that happen?” 

She could hear the questions he wasn’t asking too. _If he was your brother, then why did you declare war upon him? Why did you kill him?_

Her mother was long dead, as were her uncle and Cornelia. How Anselma had ended up as the Queen of Faerghus was yet another question she was never going to get the answer to. 

“That’s…. none of your concern,” Edelgard said, instead of submitting to the dread pooling in her stomach. He didn’t ask the other questions, and that was a small mercy, because the more they echoed through her mind, she realized that she didn’t have an answer that would satisfy. Not anymore at least.

 _Dimitri_. She hadn’t thought much of him the past few years, actively tried not to. But she still remembered his final moments. He had called her El then, cursed everything she stood for. She had seen it as the ramblings of a madman back then but… she was older now. Alive, but more scarred and wiser for it, less able to turn a blind eye to the parts of herself she didn’t like. 

A cold realization crept up her spine and chilled the righteous fire in her blood to an icy void: _Justice_ did not bring back her siblings. Logically, she had always known that, but some part of her - _a foolish, childishly naive part of her_ \- had always hoped that she would finally be able to move forward once she had given them their justice. _But_ , she thought as she watched the remnants of a civilization burn in the distance, _was this truly justice_? Or was this just another bloodbath? Had Dorothea been right then? Her breath caught in her chest, filling the void until it threatened to break out. 

Her revolution - no, her _war_ \- had not brought her siblings back to life. But it had killed a sibling, the only one she had left..

A quiet voice, sounding like a haunting mix between the Dimitri she had known as a child, and his son, echoed through the uncomfortable silence of the early morning. _“No, wars don’t start themselves. Wars don’t kill. Soldiers kill. The war didn’t kill Dimitri._ _You_ _killed your sibling.”_

 _“He would have done the same to me,”_ she argued back in her mind, but it sounded weak, even to herself. 

“ _El,_ ” Dimitri’s voice echoed back, but he said nothing else. Because he was dead, because she -

Edelgard shook her head, calmed her breathing, and tried to force the doubt from her mind. The time for doubts, for regrets, had long since passed. She had to believe that what she did was right, or - 

Or all the sacrifices would mean nothing. Edelgard looked at the blood on her hands, the gore that stained her armor. She hadn’t felt this repulsed by such a sight in a very long time.

Claude gazed at her while she was lost in her own turbulent thoughts with a calculating look. Was he angry? Upset? Disgusted? And why did it suddenly matter to her what he thought? It never had before.

Before she could figure it out, he shrugged, a little too forced to look entirely natural. “Fine, fine, I’ll back off for now. I’m going to guess he doesn’t know the truth?”

Edelgard nodded numbly. “Alexandre will soon enough.” 

She was alive, she reminded herself. For the first time in maybe forever, the future was entirely hers to shape. It should have been refreshing to be free at last, but the open path ahead of her was overwhelming, incomprehensible. What was she going to do next? 

Slowly, she lifted her lethargic body into a sitting position, and offered a hand to Claude. “I won’t ask for forgiveness, Claude. But you have my thanks. Not only for your support in battle, but for this as well...you have given me much to think about.”

Claude smiled, a small smile, but a relieved one. He grasped her outstretched hand. “Then I officially consider my debt repaid in full,” he said, and shook their hands almost childishly. 

Despite everything, Edelgard laughed, if only for a second. It sounded broken, delirious, nothing like the person she had shaped herself to be. Memories of the lives she had taken assaulted her like a flood, and it took everything she had to lock them back up, deep inside. 

She focused on the light that was slowly crested on the horizon, and reminded herself that it hadn’t been for nothing. It was the end of an era, the dawn of a new age, and instead of attending some grand victory feast, she spent it with her old classmate, turned enemy, turned ally. What a sight they must make! Two thirty-something-year-old royals, shaking hands in the grass like children. She hadn’t felt like a child in a long time. It didn’t feel terrible. 

When they broke apart, the world still didn’t make any more sense, but Edelgard at least felt like she was touching the ground instead of floating a mile above it. 

Claude pulled himself to his feet and dusted his pants off. It was an entirely futile attempt, considering all the blood. “I’ll be off now. I need to get back to Almyra. Fodlan isn’t the only nation in dire need of a fresh breath of wind to change things up,” he said, and whistled for his wyvern to come to him.

She should have expected this, but that didn’t stop the panic from welling up inside her. “Claude, wait,” she said quickly, and grasped his tunic to stop him from leaving before she said her piece. “Let’s…. keep in touch. We can’t break down borders, but letters should be able to make it across.”

Claude looked at her for a moment like she had grown a second head. “You’ve changed, haven’t you?” he said, and mounted his wyvern. 

_Have I?_ Edelgard thought, her hands still shaking, still soaked in blood. 

He sighed after a moment of awkward silence. “On one condition, then. Put flowers on Lysithea’s grave for me, will you?” 

“Of course.” _Even if there wouldn’t be a body to bury._

Claude shot one last glance at the destruction in the distance with a strange look on his face. Edelgard wondered if he ever regretted his actions. Did he ever feel homesick? But she didn’t ask. Despite all they had shared during the past few weeks, they weren’t friends. But Edelgard hoped that maybe someday they could be. 

Claude saluted her one last time. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

Edelgard nodded and watched him take off without a goodbye, but this time, she hoped it wasn’t the last she’d seen of him. 

“Don’t I know it….” she muttered to herself, and pulled herself back to her feet.

She kept looking at the sky until Claude was nothing but a dot on the horizon, and then turned her back on it all. Her eyes were focused on her comrades in the distance. She wasn’t entirely ready to face the future, and her hands hadn’t stopped trembling. But amidst all the emptiness inside her and the howling voices of doubt and disgust, there was a tiny spark of curiosity. It was almost childlike in nature, but Edelgard longed to see the sunrise, to watch nature come alive under the light of the summer sun. 

The war was finally over. Now it was time to make sense of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, next time I have a story idea, remind me of this chapter. Remind me how much I hate writing fight scenes. Please, I beg you.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and that the scene in Shambhala was satisfactory! The point was to write a pyrrhic victory and to drive some points home. The war is over, but it's not the end of the story. RIP Lysithea, I wanted you to go out like a boss instead of Wilting away in a bed (or, you know, not die young. But that's not this story.)
> 
> You know what's up next chapter, and I hope you're looking forward to the final installment of Wilting Flowers Bleed Red. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter, and what you think will happen! Thanks everyone for the support 💕


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